


Don't Let Me Hear You Say Life's Taking You Nowhere

by Livingthepielife



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, False Identity, Injury, Inspired by A Knight's Tale (2001), M/M, Minor Violence, flagrant disregard for historical accuracy, many false identities, period typical punishments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26972494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livingthepielife/pseuds/Livingthepielife
Summary: The thud of horses’ hooves. The crash of lances shattering on armor. The crowd roaring. Jousting had been a part of Jared’s life for over a decade, more than half of his life, but never the way he wanted. He dreamed of being a knight, but his low birth meant he could never be more than a squire. Until an opportunity presented itself and he took a risk, that is, but with the threat of discovery at every turn, how long could it last?
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 9
Kudos: 274
Collections: SPN Cinema





	Don't Let Me Hear You Say Life's Taking You Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> A Knight’s Tale has been one of my favorite movies for a long time and I’ve been thinking of doing an AU of it for just about as long as I’ve been in the SPN fandom. So when sign-ups for SPN Cinema crossed my timeline this year, I decided I was going to do it. Then decided not. Then talked to a friend who told me I should, and here we are.
> 
> Thank you to the SPN_Cinema mods, who are not only running a delightful challenge, but are super nice and helpful to clueless newbies as well.
> 
> Thank you so, so, SO much to NaughtyPastryChef for the super last minute beta and letting me scream at her since sign-ups about this and not killing me (even though you encouraged me to do it).
> 
> Any mistakes are my own.
> 
> This is in no way historically accurate. The movie it is based on took liberties with history and I took liberties with those liberties. For example: in this world no one cares who you love, there is no homophobia.
> 
> The title comes from from Golden Years by David Bowie (my favorite song, and scene, from the movie)

The thud of horses’ hooves. The crash of lances shattering on armor. The crowd roaring.

Jared looked up from the sword he was sharpening to see the result of the last bout of his Lord, Sir Mark, only to find said Lord falling from his saddle as his horse continued to the end of the jousting field. He caught the attention of Chad, another of Sir Mark’s squires and Jared’s best friend; they shared a look of concern before running to catch the horse to lead it back to the starting point. Sir Mark was completely incapacitated, but Jared’s unusual size and strength let him lower the knight the rest of the way down from his saddle and set him leaning against a nearby tree.

When Chris, the last of the trio of squires and the one who had been with Sir Mark the longest, arrived from their camp, he looked down at the armored body leaning against the tree then back to Jared. 

“Let me have those.” he said, indicating the pieces of cloth Jared had stuffed in his nostrils. The smell was awful even from several paces away. Jared handed over the cloth and watched as Chris went to assess the knight’s condition.

“He’s dead.” Chris said, turning back to Jared.

“What?” Just as Jared asked, Chad came back over from talking to the Knight Marshall.

“Ugh, what is that smell? Sir Mark is up three scores to none, as long as he stays on the horse on his next pass, he’s won the tournament!”

“That’ll be difficult for him. Sir Mark is dead.” Chris said solemnly.

“What do you mean ‘he’s dead’?” was the incredulous response from Chad.

“The spark of his life is smothered in shite. His spirit is gone but his stench remains. Does that answer your question?” Chris stood up and returned to where Jared and Chad were standing.

“But I haven’t eaten in three days!” Chad shouted, recovered from his initial shock.

“None of us have eaten in three days, Chad.” Jared reminded him offhandedly, his mind already working on a way to get them through this.

“Oh, that miserable…” Chad stormed down the hill to where the body still leaned against the tree and proceeded to repeatedly kick it for all he was worth, shouting and swearing all the while.

The Knight Marshall rode up to them then, looking disdainfully at the spectacle Chad was making, but refrained from commenting on it. “Sir Mark is required at the lists immediately or he will forfeit the match.”

“Sir Mark is-” 

“On his way! He’ll be there in just a minute.” Jared cut Chris off.

The Marshall looked down his nose at them again, but turned and rode back to the lists.

“I can ride in his place.” Jared said thoughtfully.

“You can what?!” It was Chris’ turn to be shocked.

“I can ride in his place. Like Chad said, all I’d have to do is stay on the horse and we’d have enough money for food. Besides, I’ve ridden against Sir Mark before.” Jared defended.

“Sure, as a dummy for target practice, not holding a lance of your own! And how can you, Jared Padalecki, peasant son of a peasant father, ride? Only nobles are allowed to compete in the joust. ” 

“Details! Do you want to eat or not? Chad! Stop kicking him and help me get his armor off.” Jared started over to where Chad was still doing his best to beat the dead man for the many offences he had against him, mainly involving food or lack thereof.

“What? Why?”

“Just help me, and hurry.” The armor wouldn’t fit his larger frame correctly, but he only needed to be in it for a short while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Actually sitting on a mount, in the lists, waiting for his turn to make a pass at a real opponent on the jousting tilt was far different than anything Jared had experienced before. He suddenly wasn’t sure this was such a good idea, but the only other option would be to forfeit and that would mean no food again for who knew how long.

“Remember, just stay on the horse. Nothing fancy.” Chris said as he and Chad walked the horse up to the starting point.

“I know, Chris.” Jared’s nerves had already started to get the better of him. He took the lance from Chad as they let go of the horse’s reins. The signal flag was waved and Jared spurred his mount forward. Knowing the theory of how to joust for real was great, until he couldn’t find the cradle attached to the armor that the lance had to sit in. His opponent was getting closer as the horses sped along the tilt toward each other. He continued fumbling and heard Chad shouting from behind him, though the words got lost. Finally, at the last second, he got the lance set in the cradle and turned his attention back to his opponent… just in time for the other’s lance to hit him square in the visor of his helmet.

When Jared came around a minute later Chris was at his side cheering the fact that he was still alive while Chad was shouting that he’d won. Miraculously, he’d stayed on the horse even though his wits had been thoroughly scattered by the blow. They got him back to their camp and dismounted. Chris insisted on checking him over to see what kind of damage had been done by the blow. The helmet came off, but it was no easy thing with a gigantic dent in the center.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, now you’ve won, how are you going to collect your prize, _Sir Mark_?” Chris asked while poking at the impressive bruise forming on Jared’s face. “You have to leave your helmet off to show respect to the nobility, and you look nothing like him. We’ll all be arrested and still won’t get anything to eat.” Jared waved Chris’ hand away from his prodding and thought for a moment.

“We can say that the blow dented the helmet onto my head and it can’t be removed.”

“We’re all going to be arrested and killed.” Chris muttered under his breath. He heaved a sigh and stood up. “Alright, then. Let’s get this thing back on your head so you can go and get our winnings.”

The ceremony somehow went as they’d planned; the nobles accepted the excuse of the dent for Jared not taking off his helmet to properly receive his prize. When they’d finally gotten it back on it didn’t sit right and he could no longer see, so Chris had to guide him in picking up the golden peacock feather that he’d won and presenting it to the crowd, but that made their ruse all the more believable. 

Chris had found a trader among the merchants to sell the ridiculous feather to in exchange for some coins they could actually use and would return soon, meanwhile Jared and Chad started breaking down their camp.

“You’ve got your thinking face on Jay, that’s never a good sign.” Chad noted as he tied the tent poles to the cart.

“Hmm? Oh it’s...it’s nothing. I’ll-”

“15 silver coins! That’s 5 each. Here, for you...and you.” Chris handed each of the other men their share. “Is camp all packed up? Right, then. I’ve got enough to go back home and that’s where I’m heading.” Chris left no room for any other comment. He grabbed his personal belongings and started down the road.

“We could do this.” Jared said, still thoughtful, just loud enough to get Chris’ attention.

“What do you mean ‘could’? We did. We have coin; enough to go wherever we want, and I want to go back home, so that’s where I’m going.” Chris said, barely turning back to acknowledge Jared.

“Wait! No, I mean we could continue competing. We could change our lives, gain respect we would never have a hope of getting otherwise. We could become more than peasants!” Jared argued, his passion and longing for a life that was more than what they had making his voice crack.

“We could also be caught, jailed, and killed. You still aren’t a noble and neither are we.” Chris dismissed.

“We would have riches you could never imagine. Any food you could ever want, any time you wanted it, Chad. Fame and glory! We wouldn’t be nameless and forgotten! Come on, Chris. Give it a chance. Please?”

Chris knew the next step, had seen it used on their former master, though not enough to be obvious, when Jared was really trying to get the knight to listen to him. The puppy dog eyes. He knew he shouldn’t turn around because there was no denying Jared when he used that particular weapon, yet he couldn’t stop himself. He turned and looked up at his companion, sure enough, Jared’s head was tilted down, his eyes shimmered with what could be unshed tears, his lips pouted just so to give more weight to the look. Pitiful. Utterly pitiful and undeniable, just as Chris knew it would be.

He looked over to Chad, hoping the other man had a higher defense to this tactic than he did since he was Jared’s best friend. He was disappointed to see Chad’s hand resting on his stomach, a forlorn look on his own face at the thought of all the delicacies he would miss out on sampling (of both pastry and flesh) if they ignored Jared’s plan and went with the sensible path.

“Ah, kid, you’re going to get us all killed one day, you know that, right?” Chris knew he’d lost, and so did Jared.

“I know, and you’ll haunt me forever. Thank you, Chris!” Jared took one step, wrapped his arms around Chris, and squeezed until he couldn’t breathe for the pressure.

“Can’t...help..if I’m...dead!” Chris wheezed out.

“Oh. Sorry.” Jared stepped back and threw an arm over Chad’s shoulders. “Now. If we’re going to do this, I need your coins.”

“You what!?” Chad screeched, pulling away from Jared’s hold. 

“Training. Equipment. I’ll need some practice if I’m going to beat opponents for real and Sir Mark’s supplies will only last for so long. Come on, give ‘em here.” Jared held his hand out to Chad, then Chris, accepting the coins that they dropped. “Now, one back for you, and one for you leaves us...thirteen. That should be enough to get us started.”

Training wasn’t quite as easy as Jared had expected it to be, even with his shoddy first performance. It seemed like he actually got worse when he started, instead of better. He went from hitting the edge of the target with the lance, to missing it completely, to having the target hit _him_. And that was a stationary target. His aim with the lance had definitely needed some work, but eventually got better as he got used to the balance and weight of the lance. His swordplay, however, was as good as ever and helped to keep up his strength and endurance. He’d nearly beaten Sir Mark in a few of his training bouts, but held back at the last because he knew he would be punished. Even taking on both Chris and Chad in melee style combat, he didn’t lose his wind and could beat them handily every time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a small make-over from what Chad had dubbed his “wild man” look into what would be more appropriate for a knight, it was finally time to move on and head for the next tournament. Chad had been complaining about it being his turn to ride their one and only horse, even though they’d agreed to switch at the mile marker they hadn’t reached yet, and Jared had started to swing down from the saddle when a naked man suddenly walked past them, for all appearances unaware of his nudity.

“Hey, sir? What are you doing?” Jared asked, poised half out of the saddle where he’d stopped as the man went by.

“Umm...trudging. Yes. That’s it.” The man said as he turned back to face them.

“...what?” Was Chad’s less than intelligent retort.

“Trudging? To trudge: the slow, weary, depressing, yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on.” The man explained as he started walking again.

“Were you robbed?” Jared asked, concerned, and finished dismounting.

“Yes, and also resoundingly no.” The man said, as he stopped and turned back toward them again. “It’s...you could call it an involuntary vow of poverty, I suppose.” He started walking once more, the trio following behind him.

“Trudging does show pride, though. Pride, resolve,and faith in the good Lord Almighty. Please, Christ, rescue me from my current tribu- OW! -lations.” The last had been muttered low enough that Jared almost didn’t hear it, until the man stepped on a thorn, hopping on one foot to try and get it out.

“And, uh, who are you?” Chris asked after he had both feet back on the ground, wanting to get on with it so they could be on their way.

“ _Praecipuum inter mundanas._ The extraordinary among the mundane. Michael Rosenbaum. Writer, observer. Trudger, as of late.” Michael stopped at the three identical blank looks he got from the other men. “Michael Rosenbaum. The writer. Really? Nothing? Writer, quill and ink on parchment. Books, poems, patents of nobility, decrees, summonses. If you have some coin, I’ll write whatever you want.”

“Did you say ‘patents of nobility?’ Jared asked.

“Why yes, I did. And who might you be?” Michael asked with a knowing tone and skeptical look.

“Well, I’m Sir Zawisza Cezary of Sandomierz. These are my squires. Lindsey of Lancaster and Lucas of Grosmont.” Jared explained, indicating Chris, then Chad.

“Right. And I’m Richard the Lionheart. No! I’m Alexander the Great. No, wait! I’m Pope Urban II!” Michael laughed as he shook each man’s hand in turn. He was forced back and down as Jared pulled his dagger and stepped forward.

“Alright. Hold your tongue or lose it.” Jared’s dagger held steady in front of Michael’s nose, where he could see the threat as well as he heard it.

“That I do believe... _Sir Zawisza_.” Michael said with a smile.

“Thank you, Mike.” Jared flourished the dagger one last time, just to make sure his point held.

“I actually prefer Rosey, if we’re to be on friendly terms.” Michael said.

“If you’re done, we’ve failed your test and we’ll be heading on.” Chris said as all three headed back to where they’d left the horse and cart.

“You’re heading to the tournament?” Rosey asked from where he still sat on the ground.

“This is the quickest road to get there, isn’t it.” Chad called back.

“Well that depends. I heard they’re requiring proof of nobility to limit the field. You have to have patents with four generations on either side of the family listed to qualify.” Rosey smirked.

This stopped the three men in their tracks. Those hadn’t been the rules in the past and it was definitely going to cause them problems. Jared looked to Chris.

“I don’t trust him. We know nothing about him and the more people that know about you, the more likely someone official will find out, and then jail or death.” Chris glared over at the writer, who had leaned back so he lounged in all his nude glory on the side of the road.

“I know, but we need him. We need the patents or this has all been for naught.” Jared ran a hand through his newly shortened hair.

“Let me handle this one.” Chad pushed his sleeves up and walked over to Rosey, then knelt in front of him so he was at eye level. “If you betray him, if you cause him harm in any way, I- I will… Pain. There will be lots of pain. Your insides will be out. Your outsides will be in. Your entrails will become your extrails. Got it?”

Rosey looked in confused astonishment at Chad, then over to Jared and Chris, who both just nodded, having heard similar speeches of Chad’s before.

“It would seem we have a deal, then, Sir Zawisza. Masters Lindsey and Lucas.” Rosey stood to shake their hands in earnest this time. And to get some clothes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took them two more days to reach the host city and it was already over crowded when they arrived. Rosey headed toward the lists to show Sir Zawisza’s patents to the Marshall and get him registered for his events. He had agreed on their journey to act as Jared’s herald for the tournament in exchange for a share of his winnings. Chris and Chad, being squires, had to set up their tent and get everything settled. Jared knew he couldn’t help them and keep up the pretense of being a knight, so he decided to explore the city while they worked.

The Parade of Knights the next morning was definitely a new and thrilling experience for Jared. Even though no one knew who he was, Jared still got cheers just for being a knight and being brave enough to compete, which helped to dispel the last of his nerves. Until they reached the field to present to the nobles and the knight next to him in line started to speak.

“It would seem they’re letting just anyone compete in these tournaments now.” Came a voice from Jared’s right. The knight was on a gigantic, coal black stallion, wearing all black armor and a disgusted sneer on his lips.

“Excuse me?” Jared replied, sure he’d misheard. Knights were supposed to be at least outwardly courteous to each other, lest they get removed from competition for not following the knightly code of chivalry. So he’d thought, anyway.

“You obviously don’t fit the standards that knights _used_ to have to measure up to in order to compete. I can only assume that they’ve grown lax on enforcing those standards and are now letting in any rabble who can sit on a horse, regardless of standing.” The sneer never left the knight’s face as he spoke. Every word caused Jared to inwardly flinch, though he retained his outward composure.

“I’ve shown my patents and proved my right to compete just like every other knight here, whether you think I “measure up” or not. _Sir_.” 

“ _Count_ , you back country mongrel. Michael Weatherly, Count of Durham and well you should know it, if you’d ever attended or competed in a tournament before. Or been part of any recent wars. And who might you be, that you’re so _very_ qualified to compete?” Sarcasm and disdain nearly dripped from the words as he spoke.

“I’m, uh..”

“So qualified that you don’t even need to remember your own name?”

“I’m Sir Zawisza Cezary, of Sandomierz.”

“Good Lord, I’d have forgotten that mouthful as well.” _Count_ Weatherly’s haughty tone grated on Jared’s nerves as he began enumerating Jared’s faults. “Your armor is ancient and clearly belongs to someone else. Your mount is equally as ancient, and poorly bred as well, to look at him. No doubt your skill with a lance falls in line with those since you’ve obviously not got the money to spend on proper training if you can’t afford proper equipment. In short, you do not belong here.” With that Weatherly wheeled his mount and trotted off of the field, leaving Jared speechless with shame and anger.

He rode back to his friends at their tent after leaving the field, still fuming from his encounter with Weatherly. “That sorry excuse for a human thinks he’s a better knight just because of standing and money.”

“And which sorry excuse might that be? There are several here, according to the shields and rumors of how they treat their people.” Chad inquired from where he was arranging their belongings in the tent.

“ _Count_ Weatherly. “ Jared’s sneer of the title nearly matched the sneer the man himself had held. “He thinks he’s the Lord’s greatest gift to the world, from how he acts. Not a shred of humility in him.”

Chris whistled in surprise. “Bloody- You sure know how to pick ‘em. The rumors about him are quite a bit worse than the rest. Stories about what his army has done outside of battle are even more gruesome than their deeds in a real fight, not to mention the ones about how his people are forced to live. But he has power, Jared, _real_ power. Whispering in the King’s own ear, so they say.” The look Chris gave him with the last said what he wasn’t saying out loud, Jared needed to be very careful with this one.

“He’s still just a man with a lance on a horse, no matter what he thinks of himself or whose council he holds.” Jared huffed, though his nerves had started to come through his anger.

“Except,” Rosey pointed out, “Count Weatherly’s heraldry tops the ranking of nearly every tournament he’s entered. His name only comes up less now because he’s been busy doing the King’s bidding in the wars.”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence.” Jared huffed. “Good to know you all believe in me.”

“It’s not a question of belief, son, just...don’t get ahead of yourself. Use your anger, let it give you focus rather than distract you.” Chris sighed and put a hand up to Jared’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“Knock him flat on his arse where he belongs and no one will question it again,” Chad challenged.

“Right. Just like that. No problem.” Jared took a deep breath to try and center himself before heading back to the field. Thankfully Jared had a couple of matches with less lauded knights set before his match with Weatherly, so he’d have at least a little experience on the field before facing him.

Those matches went well. Though he didn’t unhorse any of his opponents, he did prove he was not to be written off, winning each match by at least one point. Jared and his mount got a brief rest while other knights fought for their placing in the tournament, and then it was time to face Weatherly.

The first pass went better than Jared had really expected it to, neither rider knew much about the others’ style or technique having only watched two or three matches apiece, so it was fairly bland. Both broke their lances, but nothing spectacular. They returned to their starting points and readied for the second pass. Jared tried to surprise Weatherly by timing his start so he was already at a gallop when the starting flag fell, but Weatherly had apparently sought to do the same and they met in the center of the tilt with a much more resounding crash from the momentum they had between them. Jared managed to stay in his saddle, as did Weatherly, he noticed, but it was a closer thing than he’d have liked.

“Good Lord, he hits like a hammer. So much power.” Jared said, reluctantly impressed, when he got back to his start once again. He rolled the shoulder of his shield arm to try and work feeling back into the limb. 

“Well, you’re still tied, so just hold on for one more hammer blow and you’ll be past it. Tied is better than a loss, so just don’t lose your focus.” Chris grabbed the bridle to reposition Jared’s mount for the next pass.

“It would be better if I beat him though.” Jared grabbed his lance from Chad and turned in time to see the flag drop. He spurred his mount on, galloping down the tilt, lance held poised for the last blow as they came upon each other. He saw Weatherly’s lance tip tilt up higher than he expected and had a split second of confusion before there was a loud clang and everything went dark.

He came to with his mount circling at the far end of the tilt from the pull of the reins, his body slumped to the right, but somehow still in the saddle. Chris, Chad, and Rosey were all running towards him down the field looking panicked.

“Are you alright?!”

“Are you alive?!”

They were all shouting, Jared realized as his hearing started to return. He tried to answer, but couldn’t quite make his voice work. He realized then that he had a full field of vision, no helmet or visor was blocking his view, as it should have been. On the mount’s next turn he looked up the field, saw his helmet laying in the dirt, and started to piece together what had happened. The sudden high tilt of Weatherly’s lance had been his aim changing from Jared’s body, the more acceptable target in honorable matches, to the slit in his visor, which knocked Jared’s helmet clean off of his head. The trio of worried friends reached him and started getting his mount under control. 

“I told you not to lose focus!” Chris fumed while they walked. “I swear you’re actually trying to get yourself killed. And over something so stupid! He thinks he’s better because he _is_ better. Higher station and money means better in this world and you know that!”

“Do you really think right now is the moment for ‘I told you so’, Chris? He hasn’t even spoken yet and is only still in the saddle because you and I are currently holding him there. Maybe wait until we get him down and make sure he’s conscious for the ‘I told you so’s’?” Chad was often rash, but always a good, loyal friend, Jared thought, somewhat deliriously, as his friends fought on either side of him. 

“‘s right.” Jared managed to slur finally, and let his head flop in Chad’s direction. “‘E’s better ‘n me. Bea’ me square n’ fair.”

“Oh, thank the heavens, you are alive!” came from Jared’s other side. He was starting to regain his faculties, but slowly, so it took great effort to flop his head to Chris’ side.

“Think so. M’be. Gonna haunt me?” 

“You’d be haunting me if you were the dead one, you dolt.” Relief made Chris’ tone lighter than he’d probably intended it to sound. 

Just then Weatherly rode up to them, sneer ever present. “How did you think someone like _you_ could have ever beaten _me_?” Chris and Chad both glared at the knight and Rosey put a restraining hand on Chad’s shoulder so he wouldn’t follow as he rode away, then they led Jared and his mount away from the field.

They reached their tent and, between the three, got Jared out of the saddle and onto a bedroll inside where they could remove his armor and check for injuries. Throughout the process Chris kept up a constant stream of chastisement at Jared’s stupidity, which Jared took with a fond smile and frequent conspiratorial looks with Chad, who was also smiling. They both knew this was how Chris showed his love, the berating and stern words covering for how afraid he’d been for Jared. By the time Chris ran out of steam, Jared felt much better.

“Are you done mother henning me, Christian? As you can see, I’m perfectly alright, except for an extraordinary headache which should be fine in time.”  
  
“I was not mother henning, _my lord_ , I was making sure you would still be in good enough shape to make up for the loss at the next tournament.” Chris grumbled back, but winced slightly after mentioning the loss.

“No, you’re right. It was not entirely honorable of Weatherly to make a move like that, but he took the opportunity he saw and it is still an acceptable hit. I’ll have to be more careful next time and not give him that opening.” Jared sighed from his seat on the bedroll “In the meantime, this means we have longer to get to the next city and can save the horses a little bit. Though we are very light on funds now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made it to the next tournament city, but it was a stretch and left little in their pockets. If Jared didn’t win this tournament, his venture into knighthood could meet a very early end, and so could he and his companions. Once they reached their tent area, Chris and Chad took up their jobs setting up camp while Rosey got him registered and Jared went to explore the city again.

Jared knew he wasn’t the best singer to have lived, but he was decent enough and liked to make up songs to entertain himself during his duties, or times like now when he had nothing else to occupy his mind or hands. He was wandering and trying to think of good rhyming words when he saw someone he never expected to have the chance to see again across a church courtyard. Sir Jensen Ackles. He’d only seen the handsome knight once, many years before, but he knew then that he’d remember that face for the rest of his life. 

_When he’d been a boy, over ten years before, there had been a tournament held in London. It was rare for tournaments to be held in the city, but the King was holding one to celebrate his son, the Prince, coming of age. The whole place had nearly shut down for the parades where the knights would show off in all their armor and regalia before the tournament started and for the tournament itself, so even commoners like Jared and his father could go watch. Jared’s father had made sure to get Jared the best vantage point he could manage so he could see all of the knights going past. That vantage happened to be on the top of the, currently occupied, stocks._

_Jared had always dreamed of becoming a knight, upholding the chivalrous code; doing daring deeds in defense of King and Country, and jousting in tournaments just like that one. At that particular tournament, one of the most famous knights Jared had ever heard of had been there to compete. Sir Jensen Ackles. Everyone knew his armor and heraldry, even his horse was known and recognized by the lowest commoner! What Jared hadn’t known was just how beautiful Sir Jensen was, and how young. Of course there were stories of his beauty as well as his skill in a match and on a real battlefield, but those were always exaggerated, or so Jared had thought, and none spoke of the knight’s age; he couldn’t be more than a few years older then Jared himself, barely past his own coming of age. All of the knights had their visors raised or opened so they could greet their fans along the parade route. When Jensen went by on his big chestnut stallion Jared swore Jensen had looked directly at him and delivered the biggest grin he’d ever seen along with a wave and a wink, just for him! Jared was done for after that. He’d nearly fallen off of the stocks in shock, the man locked in it started to laugh at Jared’s audible gasp. Jared had looked at his father and told him that one day he was going to be a knight and he’d compete in tournaments just like Sir Jensen did. The bound man had laughed even harder at that, causing Jared’s father to glare at him, then look his son directly in the eye and tell him that he could do anything he set his mind to, no matter what, as long as he worked hard for it._

Jared shook himself out of the memory, returning to the present to realize that Sir Jensen had gone. He must be here for the tournament! That meant Jared might have to face his idol, and secret crush, on the tilt...assuming he got that far. He rushed back to where Chris and Chad were just finishing getting everything set up. He swung down from the saddle and nearly tackled Chad with the momentum, shaking the smaller man in his excitement.

“HE’S HERE!”

“I know. Rosey got a look at the knights registered and saw his shield on the list. You gonna be okay?” Chad replied as he reached up to grab his friend’s shoulders, to hopefully calm and quiet him down.

“I...I don’t know. I think so. I mean, I would have to make it far enough in the tournament to actually face him. I know I’ve got some natural talent and I’ve been practicing and getting better on the road here, but will it be enough this time?” Jared’s anxiety at the possibility made his voice rise as he babbled to his friend.

“J- My Lord! Keep your voice down.” Chad hissed at him, pulling him as subtly as he could into their tent, where there would at least be no strange eyes watching. Chris followed directly behind looking between the two in confusion and concern.

“Just some pre-tournament nerves, is all. Right, _m’lord_?” Chad emphasized the last even though he’d kept his voice lowered. Jared’s eyes widened as he realized what he could’ve done in his panic. Chris rolled his eyes, sighed at his friend’s foolishness, and went back out to finish what he’d been working on to get ready for the parade and first day of matches.

“Get it together, Jay-man. This is serious, and you know that means something coming from me.” Chad had leaned close and spoke quietly to be sure only Jared would hear him.

“Right, I know. I just… It’s Sir Jensen. Here!” Jared’s eyes remained wide, though he did keep his voice down to just a whisper.

“And if you get paired up in a match with him, you’ll kick his ass just like you will everyone else.” Chad said matter-of-factly as he started getting their sleeping rolls spread out. “Now, not to sound like Chris, but you’ve got a very busy day tomorrow and you need to sleep so you won’t die.”

“Actually, that sounded exactly like Chris.” Jared grinned at Chad’s immediate glare.

“I can hear you. Morons.” Chris muttered coming through the tent flap followed by Rosey, back from making the rounds of the other tents and common areas to see what other knights were there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The parade went much the same as the first. Some of the commoners cheered for him as he followed the line of knights heading onto the field to present to the nobles even not knowing who he was. He’d gotten his nerves mostly calmed back down, getting lost in the pomp and the excitement of the crowd...until he ended up next to Sir Jensen when they reached the field. Sir Jensen turned his head slightly toward Jared and spoke as he continued waving to the stands of people.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you at a tournament before. I’m usually fairly good at recognizing heraldry, but yours doesn’t seem familiar.” Jared’s hand stuttered in it’s wave at the crowd as he froze for a second before remembering the backstory Rosey had given him to use.

“Um… No, no you haven’t. I’ve come from...Poland, recently, though my family was originally from England. Sir Zawisza Cezary of Sandomierz, a pleasure to meet you, Sir.” Jared had also turned slightly toward Sir Jensen, daring a peek even though he knew he’d be better able to keep his wits about him if he didn’t.

“Sir Jensen Ackles, and the pleasure is mine. Well, welcome to the English joust! It’s always good to have new competition, keeps you from becoming complacent.” Jensen dropped his hand from waving to bring his right fist over his heart and bow his head in deference to the nobility as they were finally acknowledged. Jared quickly followed suit, having been distracted by what he could see of Sir Jensen’s trademark half smirk, then they both followed the rest of the line out to prepare for the day’s matches.

Jared had been paired against other lesser known knights for the early matches of the day, as seemed to be the norm. He’d managed to unhorse his first opponent completely on the first pass, surprising everyone including himself, and continued to move quickly up the ranks. He was already running late for his next match, the last of the day, when he was caught by a strange, and frankly very unappealing, man. 

“Are you Sir Zawisza Cezary?” Jared almost felt slimy from having the man talk to him.

“Yes, and I’m running late, so good day.” Jared turned to try and leave so he wouldn’t forfeit his match.

“Your herald, Rosenbaum, sent me to find you.” The unsavory man smarmed while he inspected his fingernails, “He said you could help him.”

“Help him with what, exactly?” Jared turned back to the man, suspicious, but listening.

“He’s gotten himself into a bit of a tight spot. If you’d follow me...” The last was not a question, so much as a semi-polite demand. Jared sighed and followed the man through the crowds and to a tent set slightly apart from the temporary marketplace that had been set up for the duration of the tournament. Once inside he found Rosey, once again completely naked, and another man who resembled a stoat, both in stature and in attitude.

“Your herald,” the smarmy man said from behind Jared, “owes us quite a sum of money. He said you could give it to us.”

“He did, did he? Exactly how much does he owe you?” Jared locked eyes with Rosey.

“Ten. Gold. Pieces.” There was a smug smirk in that response, Jared could tell without even seeing the man’s face.

“And what would you do to him if I don’t pay what he owes?” Jared still held Rosey’s gaze so he could see the man’s reaction.

“We would take it out of his skin, of course. A man like this can learn no other way that gambling is a sin.” Jared’s eyes widened in surprise, but he still didn’t look away from Rosey, making sure that the other man understood Jared had the choice to refuse him help.

“Please, J-” Rosey caught his mistake and stopped himself, but not before a questioning look passed between the debt collectors. “Please, just give me a second chance, Sir Zawisza.”

“I don’t have the money,” Jared said. Rosey crumbled into himself in despair. “But, I will. Give him back his clothes and let him go and I’ll make sure you get what you’re owed.”

Rosey looked up in astonishment at Jared, then put all the gratitude he could muster into his eyes. They left the tent with Rosey pulling on the last of his clothing, nearly running to the field and Jared’s match.

“What happened? Why did you owe them so much?” Jared needed to have an explanation so he would know if he needed to expect this again in the future.

“I...have a bit of a gambling problem. Involuntary vow of poverty, remember?” Rosey at least sounded sheepish about it.

“We will be having a talk about that later.” Jared’s long legs were eating up the distance to the field as quickly as possible. He only hoped that Chris and Chad had everything ready for him.

Even starting behind, Jared won his last match. He’d just finished clambering into the saddle, still in the ill-fitting armor that made it difficult to move, when the other knight was halfway down the tilt, his lance already in position. Jared had grabbed his lance from Chad, slammed his visor down, and spurred his horse on as quickly as he could. They met not far from Jared’s starting place, but he had just enough time to make sure he set his lance and hit his opponent. The opponent was so surprised by Jared’s recovery that he didn’t prepare for the hit properly and was knocked back almost out of his saddle. After that the match was fairly even until, on the last course, Jared’s opponent slightly miscalculated and missed hitting Jared entirely. It wasn’t the most exciting match for the crowd, but it still moved Jared up in the ranks. If he did well in the early matches the next day, he might even face Sir Jensen himself!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crowds loved an underdog and the surprise of an unknown knight doing so well in the tournament and had taken up chanting _his_ name when he was announced by Rosey before each match. Some had even painted his made up crest on their faces that day, marking him as their new favorite, for the time being, anyway. It both humbled and excited Jared, thinking of himself in the position he had only ever dreamed of. It also made him very nervous, for he didn’t want to disappoint his new fans, no matter how fickle they may be.

He took all of those emotions and pushed them into the point of his lance as his mount galloped down the tilt with each pass; used them to sharpen his focus, steady his arm and his aim. He heard murmurs between matches speculating about him and where he’d come from. It wasn’t often that a knight of such apparent talent appeared from nowhere. He ignored them all and put on an air of aloofness to try and keep his secret hidden, only acknowledging the cheers at the end of each match with a smile and wave of victory for the crowd.

Over that day and the next, match for match, Jared and Jensen both rose in the ranks until it was indeed they that would be battling for the title of Tournament champion. He listened to Rosey announce him for the final match and looked down at Chad who, as always, was standing by his side ready to hand off his lance. “I don’t think I can do this. How am I supposed to beat HIM?!”

“Same as you have every other sorry excuse for a knight you’ve come up against, Jay. Take the pointy end of the big stick, aim it at his chest, and hold on.” Chad shrugged, but didn’t turn to look up at his friend.

“Yeah, but they weren’t Sir Ackles. How many times has he been beaten in a tournament? I can count them on both hands!” Jared’s voice raised, but it was at the same time as the final cheer for his herald’s exaggerated introduction, so thankfully no one else heard. Chad looked up at him, all the confidence he had in his friend evident in his eyes..

“And this will be one more. You’re as good as he is, Jay, and that’s with almost no training. He‘s just a guy, no matter how much of a hero he may have been to you as a kid or how hot you think he is now, _you_ can beat him.” With that Chad shoved the lance into Jared’s hand, turned, and slapped his horse’s flank to set him running.

Chris walked up from where he’d been waiting slightly off to the side, arms crossed and thoughtful as Jared floundered with the sudden takeoff. “Think he’s got a chance on this one?”

“If he’ll get his head out of his ass and stop thinking about it, absolutely. So...no, not really.” Chad sighed and watched what he expected to be a disastrous match unfold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared flailed for a second, but training kicked in and he got the lance in the cradle in time to meet Jensen for the first pass. The resounding crash of wood on plate armor and the shock wave up his arm proved that he had hit some part of Jensen and his lance had broken, at least. It took until his horse stopped at the end of the field for him to feel that Jensen had gotten a solid hit on him as well, when he looked down there was a sizable dent in his chest plate to prove it. He turned the horse and headed back to his starting place for the next pass. As he and Jensen passed again, he thought he saw a slight nod of respect from the other knight, but brushed it off as wishful thinking.

Chad greeted him when he got back to the correct end with another lance and “See, takes a hit like everyone else. Just keep doing that.”

“As long as he doesn’t hit in the same place again. One more like that and it’ll crack the chest plate straight in two, or at least put a good sized hole in it...and me!” Jared gestured to the dent to show what he meant.

Chris grabbed the horse’s reins to get him turned back the right direction. “He’s not as perfect as you think. The strike looks dead center, but he holds the lance almost straight on, so it’s really toward your left, and a little high. Roll your shoulder back just before it hits and it should glance off.”

“What?! If he doesn’t do it exactly the same next time I _will_ get a hole in my chest! Or worse, my neck!”

“It’s a gamble, but what about this isn’t?” Chris shrugged and got the horse into position.

“If I die, I’m haunting you forever.” Jared threatened.

“So you’ve told me. Now, go knock the pretty boy off his horse.”

Jared spared a second to glare at Chris for his new nickname for Sir Jensen before slamming his visor down and grabbing the lance from Chad. The flag came down to signal the start of the pass and the two knights spurred their horses on. Jared took a deep breath and said a quick prayer that Chris was right, then timed it and rolled his left shoulder back at the last second before impact. His right arm shuddered again with the impact of his own lance, but he didn’t feel a hit anywhere else. He got to the end of the field and turned, just in time to see Sir Jensen look up at the unbroken tip of his lance, then back across the field at him. This time when they passed each other on the way back to their starting points, Jared thought he caught a glint of surprise and calculation in green eyes through the slit in Jensen’s visor, but again figured it was his imagination.

“See? You’re not dead. No haunting necessary, and you only need one more point to win!” The grin that Chris aimed at Jared when he returned turned into a thoughtful frown “...unless he knocks _you_ off _your_ horse, that is.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Jared replied and rolled his eyes, though Chris couldn’t see that with his visor still down. “I don’t think that will work on him again.”

“You’re probably right. So...hold on tight and good luck!” Chad thrust another lance into Jared’s hand and patted the armor on his leg, then backed out of the way for Jared’s last pass.

Jared took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves and waited for the flag to wave. He knew there was no way Sir Jensen would let this pass go without getting a final hit on him, so he just had to be prepared for it and hope for the best. The flag waved and they took off once more toward each other, both took careful aim, then crashed together. The wind was knocked out of Jared and it took him a few minutes to recover. When he did, he looked down to find the dent really had turned into a long crack through the center of the chest plate, but he’d managed to stay on his horse and that meant he’d won the match..

Chad and Chris came running down the field to meet him, both whooping and hollering, cheering his victory not only over a very worthy opponent, but also the tournament as a whole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the prize ceremony and paying off Rosey’s gambling debt with a chunk of the prize statue, Jared insisted that they pack up camp.

“You can’t just leave!” Rosey nearly shouted, “That’s not how this works! You have to go to the banquet, especially as champion. You have to mingle and be seen, keep up your knightly reputation!”

“But if we leave now we can walk to the next tournament and save the horses again! We’re going!”

“You can’t! You can’t risk offending the nobles!”

“They won’t care about an unknown knight missing one banquet!”

“You’re the tournament champion, they’ll notice!”

“Fine! But...I need clothes?”

“Why was that a question? Were you planning on going naked? Of course you need clothes!”

“No! I meant...I don’t have any suitable for banquet, they all look like, well, this.” Jared’s sweep of his hand indicated the well worn and patched shirt, pants, and boots he was wearing.

“Ah. Yes, that would be a problem. There are still a few clothing stalls open, give me a little of the money left over from the prize and I’ll see what I can rustle up for you. Though I highly doubt any of it will fit a giant like you very well.”

“I can alter them enough to be presentable.” Chris chipped in from where he’d been watching the argument, leaning against the tent pole.

“Wonderful. But what about the rest of him?” Rosey flashed a quick grin and ducked away before whatever Jared could reach was thrown at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared had no idea what to expect when he walked through the doors of the hall where the banquet was being held, but seeing all of the knights and courtiers dressed in their fine clothing, mingling with each other and laughing had him almost bolting right back out and away to safety. He was about to turn back around to leave when he saw Jensen. He was talking to another knight and laughed at whatever had been said just as Jared spotted him. Jared thought he’d somehow gotten even more handsome than when he’d seen him in the courtyard just two days before. Jared stood stunned, rooted to the spot, until Jensen noticed him and beckoned him to come over. Jared started to walk forward, his legs somehow getting the message even though his brain was still mostly offline, then Jensen _smiled at him_ , like he was truly happy Jared was there. If Jared had been thinking clearly he might have found it odd that the knight he’d just beaten for tournament champion seemed _happy_ to see him, but he was having a hard enough time remembering that breathing was necessary to live. Jensen had turned to finish his conversation, then turned back to meet Jared as he approached, and smiled _again_ at him. He had crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, Jared could see now that he was closer, and freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. Jared nearly stumbled over his own feet at these revelations, but managed to catch himself before he looked any more like a fool than he probably already did. He was sure there was a dumbfounded look plastered on his face to match the awkwardness of his stumble.

“Sir Zawisza! I’m so glad to see you! I thought you’d decided not to attend.” Jensen greeted him with a slight bow of respect to a fellow knight and competitor, his smile was still aimed at Jared with what looked like complete sincerity. 

“And miss all this food? I could never.” Jared said with what he hoped came off as a flippant tone, glancing over at the overflowing tables of every delicacy he’d ever heard of and quite a few that he didn’t recognize.

“Ah, yes, they do have quite a spread here.” Jensen leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “Though truthfully, the one in Paris is better, if you’ll forgive my saying so.”

“I haven’t had that pleasure yet.” Jared spared a thought for Chad and the near ecstasy he’d be in with all the treats laid out.

“Right! You’re new to the tournaments in this area. Even so, I can’t believe that I hadn’t heard of you before, with how you’ve performed here. Talent like that is usually talked about even far beyond the knight’s normal traveling range.” Jensen’s curiosity was nearly palpable, though it didn’t seem malicious. Jared started to sweat.

“I, uh…I mostly just...trained with the other knights that were near by or visited the area. I didn’t go to tournaments, so there was no way for anyone to know or talk about me.” Jared hoped that sounded believable. He knew this was a bad idea, but now that he was there he couldn’t let the opportunity to see Sir Jensen, actually talk to him, pass him by. 

“Hmm. I suppose there aren’t many knights that travel that far unless it’s for war. If you keep jousting the way you did at this tournament, your name is going to be on everyone’s lips, however. There will be no remaining anonymous for you.” Jensen slapped his shoulder in congratulations. “Not to play the peacock, but besting me is quite a feat. There are few knights who have done so, and that would get tongues wagging even if the mystery surrounding you wasn’t already.” Jensen added.

“It was a lucky match, that’s all.”

“Lucky? Luck didn’t deflect my blow, leaving me with an unbroken lance and you with shards scattered in the dirt.” Was there...admiration in Jensen’s eyes? “It does a man good to be bested now and again. Keeps him humble and always striving to be better.” Jared thought Jensen would be angry about having been beaten and had been determined not to speak on it so he could enjoy whatever time he had in Jensen’s company, but the knight seemed intrigued rather than upset. 

“It was a gamble that happened to pay off, but you! I thought I was done for with your final blow. It cracked my chest plate clean through!” Jared exclaimed, eyes wide and his hand moving to lightly rub his chest with the remembered force of the hit. He knew there was already a bruise forming there.

Jensen’s eyes flicked down to track the movement, then back up to Jared’s eyes. He ran his tongue quickly over his bottom lip and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a servant announcing the food was ready and they were welcome to feast. Jared startled at the sudden reminder that there were other people around still. He’d been so enraptured by Jensen that he’d forgotten the rest of the world existed for a few minutes.

“I suppose we should partake of this delightful bounty and celebrate your victory. Would you care to join me to eat?” 

That was most definitely not what Jensen had been about to say when he’d been interrupted and Jared wished the servant had stayed quiet for a few more minutes. For some reason he felt that whatever it was had been something...intimate. Perhaps that was just wishful thinking though.

“I can think of no better way to celebrate than to do so with you, since, but for a bit of good luck and a risk, this feast would be yours.” Jared made sure his bow was slightly lower than Jensen’s had been, acknowledging Jensen’s skill and standing, and showing the respect he deserved.

Through the feast Jared encouraged Jensen to tell about his exploits in jousting at tournaments as well as the real battles that he’d fought, successfully keeping the conversation off of himself though most likely not as subtly as he would have liked. Judging by the looks that Jensen gave him at various points throughout the conversation, he knew that he was being led, but didn’t know why Jared was so reluctant to talk about himself. When the food was nearly gone and the feasters had settled, someone called for the musicians to strike up and for there to be dancing. When Jensen looked to Jared he immediately explained that while his height and general size made for good jousting and sword fighting, it was very, very bad for dancing...at least for his partner. Jared was reluctant to leave, but he knew he and his companions needed to be on their way early the next day and it had already grown too late.

“I hope to see you at the next tournament, Sir Jensen.” Jared said with another bow as he took his leave.

“And I you, Sir Zawisza.” Jensen said with an equal bow to Jared. “It will surely be interesting to face you again.” Jared thought he could feel Jensen’s eyes on him all the way to the door as he left the hall, but didn’t want to turn and find out for sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It turned out that Jensen was not competing at the next tournament Jared went to, but his disappointment was overshadowed by more immediate concerns.

“Rosey and his stupid gambling debt. Without that we would’ve had enough to pay any blacksmith here what they wanted to fix this, but no. After feeding all of us, the horses, entry for the tournament, a new tunic for banquet, and _that_ no blacksmith worth anything will even look at it because I can’t pay them.” Jared muttered his tirade to himself as he walked around the merchant tents in the back area where the armorers and ferriers could set up their forges. He’d just about given up hope, having asked all except the ones farthest away, and presumably the least trustworthy of the lot, and decided he’d have to sell one of the horses he’d won by unseating other knights in the last tournament, Chad and his whining about tired legs be damned. He rounded the last corner, for the sake of being thorough rather than any hope of finding help, when he ran into what felt like a lightly padded stone wall.

“Oh. Pardon me.” he said offhandedly, turning to go around the sudden block in his path. Chad had teased him about his habit of apologizing to inanimate objects that he’d run into before, but that hadn’t broken him of doing it. He glanced over to see what it was he’d just apologized to, which turned out to be a man almost as tall as him (which was surprising in itself) with arm muscles the size of his entire head. “Oh. _Oh!_ Please excuse me!” Jared nearly shouted in surprise and stumbled back a few steps, while holding the damaged armor to his chest out of instinct.

“Not to worry.” the man said kindly, “Are you okay?” He reached out to try and steady Jared with a hand on his shoulder since he was still not quite balanced from his shock.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine, just sorry to have run into you. I wasn’t paying enough attention to where I was going, and I thought there wouldn’t be anyone else this far out.” Jared rushed out, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

“As I said, nothing to worry about, sir. Were you looking for something, or someone in particular way out here?”

“Oh. Yes. Well, no not anymore. I needed this plate mended before the tournament starts, but my funds are...not adequate for the armorers here. At least not at the moment.” Jared’s blush deepened at having to tell this stranger his shame.

“That was quite a nasty hit to have done that much damage. Few knights could give, or take, a hit like that. There’s no way you can compete with it like that, if you are competing here, nor would it do for the opening ceremony tomorrow. And, if you don’t mind my saying, Sir, it...doesn’t look like it was made to fit you. At all.” The man said as he studied the armor in Jared’s hands.

The last got Jared immediately defensive for fear of being found out. “Yes, well, it was my father’s armor.” Jared sneered at the man and turned to leave “And I get my height from my mother.” He tossed back over his shoulder.

The man guffawed loudly, taking Jared by surprise and making him stop in his tracks. “I’m immensely sorry, sir.” he said, “Would you do me the honor of sitting with me a few moments so I can explain? A man with your sense of humor is someone I must get to know, if you’ll permit. You quite remind me of a friend of mine, come to think.”

Jared turned and saw the man had bowed low out of respect, nothing but sincerity in his eyes when he stood back straight to look at Jared. “Alright. If you truly mean it.”

“Thank you very much, sir, for giving me a chance to redeem myself. Thomas Welling, blacksmith and armorer, at your service.” He bowed again, with a slight flourish while he introduced himself. “Please, follow me this way.”

Welling led Jared around the corner where he had been headed to start with and into a tent set up beside one of the forges used by traveling blacksmiths. “Please sit and make yourself comfortable. I believe I have a little bread and cheese, if you’d like?”

“No, thank you. I’m quite alright.” Jared said and took the proffered stool set at a small, but sturdy table. He leaned the piece of armor against the leg of the table so it would be out of the way while they talked.

“I do truly apologize for my comment about your armor, sir, it was not my place. It’s a hazard of my profession to see if a piece of armor fits right on the person who is wearing it, however that is no excuse for speaking out of turn. The friend I spoke of has warned me that my tongue would get me into trouble if I didn’t mind it better. He would be delighted to know he was right.”

“I’m J...Sir Zawisza Cezary. Of Sandomierz. In Poland.” Jared stuttered a little, catching himself just before giving his real name. He really needed to work on that, but Welling put him at ease. He seemed like the type of man Jared could be friends with, if the circumstances were different.

“A pleasure to meet you, Sir Zawisza.” Welling said with another small bow before he took a seat on the stool across the table from Jared.

“I apologize as well, for my outburst.” Welling’s eyes widened in surprise at Jared’s words and he realized he’d made another mistake. No knight would apologize to someone as “lowly” as a blacksmith under normal circumstances. He continued, hoping to distract Welling from the small blunder. “This friend of yours, he sounds like a wise man.”

“Indeed, he does give out some fine nuggets of wisdom on occasion, but he has a much harder time following them himself than he does giving them out to others, so the true level of his wisdom is up for debate.” Welling said with a fond smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, may I take a closer look at that chest plate of yours? I might be able to patch it up well enough to have you out of danger while competing.” Jared started to open his mouth to protest because of his lack of funds, though he was embarrassed to bring it up again. 

Welling reached down and grabbed the armor with one hand and brought it up to see it better, ignoring Jared’s attempt to speak. “Hmm. Yes. I can patch this up just fine. An apology for my bad manners and in honor of your father, so you may continue to have him with you as you ride.” Welling looked at Jared over the table, a hint of a challenge in his eyes “If you will allow me, m’lord?”

“I can’t- But it’s not- Yes. Yes, if you insist, I suppose that would be fine.” Jared spluttered before his brain kicked back in and he thought better of denying the much needed help.

“Excellent! Thank you, m’lord, I always try to make amends for my mistakes. I should be able to have it done tonight. If you could stop by in the morning before the tournament starts, it will be fit for use.” Welling’s grin seemed genuine and he stood with another bow to Jared, still holding the armor. 

Jared stood as well, then turned and left the armorer’s tent. He’d walked a few paces away and back around the corner toward his own tent when he stopped in the middle of the walk path. “What the devil just happened?” He asked no one in particular.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared went back to Welling’s the next morning. His armor had been patched, as promised, and was waiting for him along with a large grin and well wishes for the tournament from Welling. It wasn’t quite as good as new, but should be sturdy enough to keep him from getting a lance through his chest for the next two days. He hoped.

The opening ceremony and parade were just as exhilarating as the first had been. Even more because now there were already people cheering for him and wearing his colors as they rode past the crowds and onto the field to present to the nobles putting on the tournament. Jared tried to absorb the crowd’s enthusiasm to make up for his disappointment at not being able to have another match with Jensen, or even see the other knight again. 

His matches that day went as most had been once he hit his groove, winning one after another after another and flying up the ranks toward the championship. Chad, Chris, and Rosey had discovered that they could use Jared’s honesty and chivalry to motivate him in his matches against other knights. They merely asked around about how his opponents treated their people, those who depended on them for their lives, and reported back to Jared the awful things they heard. Knights who treated their people like less than dirt, others who raised their taxes beyond imagining for selfish purposes. And if they happened to embellish a bit on some of those reports to get Jared’s head and heart in the right place, well, none of them were going to be the one to tell him about it.

His final match of the day was a knight he’d never heard of, and surprisingly, neither had Rosey. “Sir Oliver Harrington. He showed up out of nowhere, kind of like you, no one I’ve talked to knows very much about him.”

“That’s slightly concerning. Just be careful, son.” Chris advised Jared while he looked down the tilt toward where the other knight was waiting.

“His herald could use a little flair in his introduction. He’s so stuffy he almost sounds like a royal.” was Rosey’s only input.

“Well no one needs the amount of ‘flair’ that you have, you ridiculous git.” Chad snarked at him and got an offended glare in return.

“It’s my job to make them wake up and pay attention and that’s what I do. Not everyone has to be as...mundane as you.” Rosey shot back.

“Children. It’s time for work now.” Chris sighed.

Chad handed off the lance to Jared and he spurred his mount once more down the tilt. There was nothing recognizably unusual about how Harrington rode or his technique, but something niggled at the back of Jared’s mind as feeling somehow different. Regardless, they both broke lances and headed back to start the next pass. Jared waited for Chris to comment about the man, but his friend remained quiet, only grabbing the horse’s rein to turn them around. The second pass had the two crashing together again, still tied for points. It wasn’t until Jared got back to his starting point and turned back around that he noticed something.

“Harrington’s hurt.” Chris said at the same moment Jared thought it. The way he was sitting in the saddle was decidedly uncomfortable. Harrington motioned for a meeting between the two of them on the field and Jared trotted his horse out to see what the man would say.

“Sir Zawisza.” Harrington’s breath was labored, it must have been his ribs that were injured.

“Sir Harrington.” Jared replied and waited for Harrington to catch his breath.

“I cannot ride, but I wish to maintain my dignity.”

“Of course, I understand. I would wish the same.”

“Right.” Harrington bumped his right fist over his heart in a sign of respect and agreement and Jared did the same, then both returned to their starting places again.

“What did he say?” Chad asked as soon as Jared was in earshot.

“He forfeits, but with dignity.” 

“What does _that_ mean?”

“It means Jared is going to allow it to be a draw instead of making him officially forfeit, then Harrington will withdraw from the rest of his matches.” Chris answered for him, always a step ahead. That was exactly what happened, both men rode out at a trot and when they got to where they would normally break lances, both raised them in a salute and continued on, forcing a draw.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You could’ve refused and either made him forfeit or just taken him out, why didn’t you?” Chad asked that night when they were in their tent and settled for the night.

“You know why, Chad. It wouldn’t have been the right thing to do. I can’t be angry at other knights for not staying true to the code of chivalry and then do the same thing. Aside from that, it would have proven nothing. There is no honor or pride in beating an injured man, especially one who has gracefully asked for mercy.”

“You are too good, kid, way too good.”

“Don’t call me “kid”. You’re only a year older than me and have the mind of a child anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re still too good. Night kid.”

“Night, dumbass.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day’s matches followed the pattern of the first and Jared was named tournament champion once again.

“That blacksmith’s patch held up well.” Chad tried to hold up the chest plate with one hand, the other arm full of various discarded armor, but couldn’t quite lift it. “Not the smallest crack around the edges, even with the number of blows you were dealt.”

“Ah, Welling, another stop I’ll have to make before we set off. I still need to pay him for the repair.” Jared said, mostly to himself.

“I thought he did it as a favor?” Chad asked.

“He did, but that favor was based on a lie. Two lies, really, and that doesn’t sit well with me.”

“You’re too damned honorable for your own good sometimes, Jared,” Chris sighed, “but that’s what makes you a better knight than half of the men out there with the title.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared returned to Welling’s temporary forge the next morning and was greeted with a friendly smile and a bow.

“Sir Zawisza! It’s good to see you again! Did the patch not hold?” The blacksmith tried to surreptitiously look around Jared for the chest plate.

“No! No, the patch held perfectly, not even the smallest sign of a weakness. I just wanted to pay you what you’re due for the work. I wouldn’t have made it very far without it.”

“No need for payment, sir, it was done as a repayment already.” Welling looked slightly confused.

“I know, I just...your skill deserves true payment.”

“You do indeed remind me very much of the friend I was talking about yesterday, sir. Speaking of, I think I might have a bargain that will be acceptable to you, if you’d like to come and sit with me again?” Welling held his hand toward his tent in invitation. Jared nodded his agreement and went to sit at the table.

“Thank you, sir.” Welling said and sat in the chair opposite Jared, “I am supposed to be meeting that friend of mine at the next tournament. I normally travel with him, but he was called to other business, so I find myself without a traveling companion. I don’t worry about being taken on the road, I tend to intimidate most who would think to try it, being somewhat larger than the average man, as I’m sure you’ve experienced yourself, sir, but I do find the trip goes faster when shared with another person, or people. Forgive me for the assumption, but you are heading to the next tournament, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, I’d planned to leave this morning after stopping to talk to you. I would be happy to have you join us if that would be a suitable payment to you. Would you need to stay through the day to finish any business?”

“No, I arrived too late to get one of the better spots and haven’t had much business because of it. Leaving now would assure a much better position for the next one.”

“Alright Welling, we’re agreed. How long do you need to make ready to leave? We can meet you on the road out of the city when you’re ready.”

“Tom, if you please, sir. It will be much easier on the road. It shouldn’t take me more than an hour to be ready, I’ll meet you on the road then.”

“Tom.” Jared stood and shook the other man’s hand, sealing their deal. “We shall see you shortly, then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did WHAT?!” He looked like he was about to faint from outrage, Jared mused while Chris continued yelling. “You know that him traveling with us means we’ll all have to be even more on our guard protecting _your_ secret, right? No slips from you acting familiar, none from us accidentally calling you by your real name, nothing!”

“It’s only a week to the next city, we can all hold it together for that long. And he’s a blacksmith, not another knight, so if we do slip who’s going to care?” Jared continued packing the last of his belongings into his trunk.

“He may not be a knight, but he is an armorer! He knows and deals with knights all the time, a word from him could end all of this!”

“I don’t know. I have a feeling about him, Chris. He seems like a trustworthy man. He was willing to fix my armor without payment to make up for a lapse in manners that wasn’t entirely his fault, and to honor my father since I told him that’s who this armor belonged to.”

“Wanting to not end up on the bad side of a knight is not the same as being party to a lie about _being_ a knight! The threat of the punishment alone, if it were found out, would deter most from keeping a secret like that.”

“Well, it’s too late now. The deal has been struck and I cannot back out of it, so we’ll all just have to be careful.”

“This will never work, you know that, right? I could tell within minutes of meeting you that you weren’t who you pretended to be.” Rosey added from his place leaning against the tent pole.

“I’ve spoken to him more than once, so that part is passed, and now we have you to help us. Make good use of your tongue for once and keep him distracted if he starts to ask questions. Tell him one of your stories, that should take up the whole week!” Jared snapped back at the writer. Jared thought he saw hurt flash across Rosey’s face, but it was gone in an instant. 

“As you wish, my lord, I’ll do my best.” He bowed, then turned and left the tent.

“Rosey, wai-” Jared growled in frustration. He hadn’t meant to take his anger out on his friend, for Rosey had become a good friend to them, he just had a way of bluntly pointing out flaws that got under Jared’s skin. “We need to finish packing if we’re going to be on time. I’ll try to make amends later.” Chris, who was normally on Jared’s side when it came to the writer, just nodded and went back to work.

Despite the tension in their group at the beginning, traveling with Tom turned out to be incredibly enjoyable. He told stories of his travels with his friend, who Jared was fairly sure was another knight, but Tom would never say outright who it was, and kept the group distracted throughout their journey. It was difficult for them to not get too relaxed and forget themselves, and they did slip a few times over the week, but Tom seemed not to notice the occasional long pause in an anecdote or suddenly cut off sentence. Jared knew that he didn’t act like the higher born knights, it just wasn’t in his nature to remain aloof from others, but he hoped that his story of living for so long another country would excuse any oddities Tom might notice. It helped that Tom and Rosey had gotten very close during their travels and Tom was often distracted simply watching the writer as he told a story or was walking along beside him. As Tom had said, the week seemed to go by more quickly than usual with another in their group and soon they had arrived, with nearly 5 days to spare before the next tournament started.

Tom made his farewells and wished Jared good luck in the competition, telling him to come by if his armor needed any more patching, and went to set up his temporary forge. Jared and his friends headed to check out the grounds where the knights would set up their tents and get themselves settled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been several long months since Jared had seen Jensen, though he kept tabs through Rosey and the other heralds on how he had been doing in his own tournaments. They were about matched in tournament wins, but seemed to always be traveling in opposite directions. A rematch with Weatherly also hadn’t been possible since the tournament where they met Tom; the King had sent him back off to the wars with his army. Jared still wanted his chance to beat the man, and without using questionable tactics, but he was more interested in being able to face Jensen again and have a true challenge.

Finally when Jared had almost given up hope of ever seeing the man again, they rode into the next tournament city and as they passed the registration table, Jared saw Jensen’s crest was already hanging proudly behind the Marshall, indicating his intention to compete. Rosey, Chris, and Chad kept exchanging knowing smiles as they went about their normal business of getting their camp set up for the tournament. Jared was even more animated and talkative than normal, though he carefully avoided mentioning his idol by name, they all knew what had lifted their friend’s mood.

“Just go and look for him already! He’s bound to be wandering somewhere in the city _not_ bothering his squires while they’re trying to do their jobs.” Chris said after the third time Jared ended up standing exactly where he needed to go next and made a “shoo” motion toward him.

“What do you mean? Who am I supposed to find?” Jared tried for innocence, but failed miserably, even to himself. Chris’ raised eyebrow was all he needed to know he hadn’t fooled him either.

“But...what if I really _do_ find him? I can’t just...”

“Talk to him? Like any other person would?”

“Chris.” There were the puppy eyes again. Chris sighed.

“He said he hoped to see you again, right?”

“Yeah, but he meant for a rematch.”

“You’re sure about that? From what you said he seemed awfully happy to see you at that banquet. You said he wanted to dance with you, too. Seems like it might be more than just a rematch he wants to me.”

“He was probably just being polite. He is, you know.”  
  


“The epitome of what a knight should be, yeah, so I’ve heard.”

Jared blushed and ducked his head at Chris throwing words he may have said a little too often back at him, even though it was softened by a half smirk. “Well, he is.”

“I know, kid. Go. Wander, explore, do whatever it is you do that keeps you out from under our feet while we finish up here.” That time the words were softened by a squeeze to Jared’s shoulder and a soft pat before Chris returned to his task. He turned back after a second, “Just be sure you’re back in time to be well rested for tomorrow.”

“Yes, mother.” Chris’ scowl and Jared’s grin put them back on long familiar ground.

Jared did go and explore, walking instead of taking his horse to try and get rid of some of his anxious energy. He didn’t see Jensen in his wandering, but he did see several other knights he had faced in tournaments before. Good opponents, but not enough to keep him from his goal of facing Jensen again in what he hoped would be the match for tournament champion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared’s morning started off bad. A buckle, which Chad swore he had checked the night before, broke on his horse’s normal bridle, so he had to use a different one which the steed was not as comfortable with. The padding under his armor refused to sit right and was rubbing sores into his skin as he rode through the parade. He didn’t see Jensen anywhere in the lineup when they got to the field, though he knew he had to be there. All of that led to a nearly disastrous first match where Jared wasn’t settled correctly in the saddle when his opponent’s lance struck and he was nearly unhorsed. He managed to make up the points and win the match, but it was far closer than any match he’d had since his very first all those months ago.

“You’ve got to get past it, Jay,” Chad whispered to him between that match and the next while he was putting the newly fixed bridle back on Jared’s horse, “everything is set now, just put it behind you.”

He barely had time to breathe and recover before they had him back on the field. “Yeah, I know, just something is...off. I can’t figure out what exactly.”

“You’ve got a longer break after this, we’ll try to figure it out then. Just...try not to lose focus.”

The next match went better, but it still wasn’t what Jared had gotten used to.

“Dammit!” As soon as Jared was out of the saddle after the match was over his helmet was off and being thrown to the ground. He stormed back to their campsite, ignoring Rosey’s undignified, startled squawk at only narrowly being missed by the helmet’s rebound.

“Whoa! What the…?!”

“I think I know the problem, but I’m not sure how to fix it without stepping way over the line. Even for me.” Chris said while he watched Jared’s shaggy hair retreat over the heads of the crowd around him.

  
“...just watching his matches won’t do it, will it.” Rosey had turned back toward the field where the next match was getting ready to start.

“I don’t think so, not this time, but it might help him get some focus back. He doesn’t even realize how badly it’s affecting him. Or rather what it is that’s affecting him so badly.”

“He’s only met the man once, how…?”

“Sometimes you just know, in your soul, even if your heart and head take a little longer to catch on.” They caught each other’s gaze, one thinking of the long past, the other of a far more recent journey, but both knew the feeling acutely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I need to rest and get my head together, not go and watch opponents that I’ve already faced and know their strategies!” Chad decided not to take offense at the glare leveled at him, but next time Chris was _so_ getting the job of dealing with a cranky giant.

“Please? Just come with me and watch. Sitting here and stewing really isn’t doing you any good.”

“Just leave me alone! I’m fine!”

“Jare, I swear to you, it will help and if you weren’t already so angry, you’d know that, too. You’ve never been one for sitting and doing nothing. Come, move, even if you don’t want to watch, just walk around some.”

Jared took a deep breath. He knew he didn’t want to hit his friend, but the temptation was there. “...fine. If it will get you off my back, I’ll come out for a match or two, but I do need to rest, too.  
  
“Good, but hurry, or we’re going to miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“You really are off.” Chad muttered to himself, “Just come on!” He reached out to help haul Jared to his feet and push him out of the tent. They got through the crowd and to the rail where Rosey and Chris were already standing as the knights began their gallop toward each other. Jared had been so busy trying to shove his way through without hurting anyone that he hadn’t seen who was competing, obviously they’d already missed the introductions and the first pass.

“Thank God! I thought you were going to miss the whole thing!”

Jared spared a glance of curiosity at Rosey before finally facing the field. “Jensen.” The awe and relief in his tone didn’t register to his own ears, but Chad and Rosey could both hear it. “It’s Jensen’s match? I thought it wasn’t until later.”

“I told you brooding wasn’t good for you.” Jensen won his match easily, unhorsing his opponent on the second pass to wild cheers from both the nobles in their raised boxes and peasants in the crowd.

The change in Jared was palpable. His spirit lightened, he practically glowed with renewed vigor. His last opponent was not taken easily, but Jared still won the match by one point and moved into the final day of matches.

“That worked better than expected. I hope it’ll last until tomorrow and through the final matches.” Chad remarked as he watched Jared nearly bounce back to their tent after dismounting and handing off the reins to Chris. 

“It was just a bandage on a bigger wound, but I hope so, too.” The grim look Chris gave him in return wasn’t encouraging, but Chad ignored it, as he did most of his companion’s negativity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day’s matches went better and Jared’s spirit remained high, but he was still slightly off his game. He wasn’t able to shake off the hits he took and his own hits weren’t as precisely placed as they normally were, but he made it through, if only by the skin of his teeth. His last opponent was Jensen, once again to decide the tournament champion. Finally, he would face the man who’d captured his heart all those years ago again, he could only hope that he was up to the challenge.

Jared swung up onto his horse and looked across the field beyond where Rosey was finishing up his introduction. He saw Jensen doing the same and their eyes caught briefly after Jensen settled in the saddle, Jensen flashed a half smirk and gave a nod toward Jared, Jared nodded back and took a deep breath to prepare himself. Rosey finished his introduction, to confused applause and cheers as always. The crowd didn’t necessarily understand all of his flowery phrases or literary references, but he got them excited for the match. Jensen’s herald took the field to make his introduction and Jared adjusted his armor to make sure none of the edges would catch and restrict his movement. He couldn’t help but look down the tilt again and caught Jensen making the same final adjustments of armor that he was. When their eyes caught again, Jared gave a nervous smile and got a beaming, toothy smile in return before Jensen pulled his visor down. Jared swore his heart stopped for a second before he could take a breath and it started up again. He stared for another second, then pulled his own visor shut.

“Alright, lover boy. You beat him once, you can do it again.” Chad teased when he handed Jared his lance and patted his leg plate.

Jared huffed a laugh. “Right, it was so easy last time.” He held his lance in the “ready” position and waited for the flag to wave and start the first pass.

The knights kicked their horses into motion and charged down the field toward each other, both set their lances and took aim. They met at the middle of the tilt and had aimed so perfectly that the lance tips met and splintered before they could reach either rider’s body. The surprise of the almost impossible hit and force knocked both back in their saddles, but neither earned points for the pass. Jared turned his horse to return to the start and glanced across at Jensen. He thought, from what little he could see with both visors down, that Jensen’s beaming grin was back, enjoying having been surprised once again by his encounter with Jared. The thought made Jared smile back at the other man and he forgot for a moment that they weren’t simply meeting on a practice field.

The second pass saw both men’s lances crashing dead center on the other’s chest. It forced both back in their saddles again, but not hard enough to dislodge either of them, which kept them tied for points. The last pass would determine who the champion would be.

“Any brilliant advice for this one?” Jared asked Chris when he’d returned to the starting point once more.

“Yeah, don’t fall off.” Chris replied simply. 

Jared rolled his eyes. “That’s...not helpful. I’ll do my best though.”

“He’s corrected the only flaw I saw in his technique since the last time you faced him and hasn’t gained any more, so that’s the best I can give you: go out, aim true, stay on your horse, and forget who he is until you reach the other end of the tilt.”

“Ha! Forget who he is, right. Lance!” Jared turned to find Chad already lifting the lance to his hand and grabbed it, readying for the flag drop.

Jensen’s horse reared as he was spurred forward once more toward Jared, throwing his rider slightly off balance and making his lance dip and bob until just before they met. Jared’s own lance had been held steady, but drifted at the same time that Jensen’s steadied, making his blow glance off of Jensen’s side instead of hitting and splintering as it should have. Jared was rocked back in his saddle again from Jensen’s lance hitting its mark. The splinters that flew indicated that Jensen was the tournament champion and Jared could only nod in acknowledgement as he passed Jensen and left the field.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We have this argument every time! You can’t skip the banquet! You need these people to believe you respect them!”

“I know Rosey, but the more we can save the horses the better it is for the matches. And I know I’ll just make a fool of myself like I always seem to.”

“It can’t be as bad as you make it sound, no one talks about it. You know how courtiers and their ilk love to gossip, so if it was that bad someone would have spread it around by now.”

“Rosey! That’s not helping anyone!”

“Ahem. Uh, excuse me? Sir Zawisza?” came a somewhat timid sounding voice into their argument.

“What! Oh. Excuse me, yes?” Jared flipped around and immediately blushed at an outsider having heard them arguing.

“Uh, Sir Jensen sent me to ask if you’ll be attending the banquet tonight. He wishes to meet with you again.” The man, a squire he’d seen with Jensen, looked slightly baffled at the scene he had come upon, but recovered quickly.

Rosey stepped forward while Jared was still floundering for words. “I regret to say that my Lord will not be attending this evening, but he-”

“Herald! Do not answer questions that were not asked of you!” Jared admonished while trying to figure out what else to say.

“Yes, my Lord. Terribly sorry.” Rosey bowed and backed away, hiding a smirk.

Jared turned back to the squire. “Yes, I will be attending tonight, and please convey my gratitude and acceptance to Sir Jensen.”

“Yes, my Lord.” The squire bowed, but didn’t turn to leave. “Sir Jensen also wanted to know, if you are attending, what color tunic you’ll be wearing? He’d like to dress to match.”

“What...color tunic? Uh, squire. What...color is my tunic going to be tonight?” Jared looked frantically at Chris, hoping he’d have some sort of answer to save him.

“It’s uhh...light blue. Trimmed in...brown. With yellow and green accents.” Chris supplied absently, his focus on admiring the squire rather than on what he was saying.

“Thank you.” The squire said with another bow and a smile, “I’ll inform my Lord.” He then turned and departed.

“Did you just describe our tent for Jared’s tunic?” Chad asked Chris, staring at said tent.

Rosey reached over and tapped Chris’ chin, making his teeth clack from the open-mouthed staring he’d been doing at the squire’s retreating backside. Chris shook his head to clear it and caught back up with his surroundings.

“Yes, now give me your dagger so I can start working on it, since no one else has any clue how to sew properly.” Chris snatched the dagger out of Chad’s hand and went to work on the tent.

“Well, this is going to be awful.” Jared lamented.

“Then why did you agree?!” Rosey flailed his arms in the direction the squire had gone.

“It’s… I’ve looked up to Sir Jensen since I was a boy, he’s why I wanted to become a knight, and I have to take any opportunity to meet him when I can. Any time could be the last time and I have to try and leave the impression that I’m not really the babbling idiot that I was last time, if I can.” Jared looked at the ground and blushed as he mumbled.

“If I’m making you this bloody tunic, you’re going to figure out how to talk to him!” Chris grumbled. “It’s going to use half of the material to fit your gigantic body. We’ll need a new tent.”

“It’s a good thing you have me along m’Lord, because when it comes to words, there is no one better than I.” Rosey sketched a sarcastic bow to Jared, but the look in his eyes was serious.

“All right. Let’s do it.” Jared sighed, then steeled himself to face Rosey’s brand of tutoring.

~~~~~Jensen~~~~~

“He is attending, m’lord, at least he is now. His tunic sounds...odd. In fact everything about his whole group is odd. I know a tunic of yours that should be a good enough match. Well, complement more than a true match...”

“How many times have I told you, Steve? You have permission to call me Jensen when it’s just us. You may be my squire, but we’ve been friends for our whole lives.” Jensen was getting the last of his personal things packed up in preparation to leave the following day when Steve got back from his errand.

“It’s a habit. And one I’m not keen to break, given what will happen if I forget at the wrong time.” Steve gave Jensen a sardonic look and started digging through his trunk of banquet clothes. He had a good life with Jensen as his Lord, but getting caught being too familiar by the wrong person could end that very quickly.

“Hmm. What is it about Sir Zawisza and his men that bothers you? And what do you mean he’s going now? Was he not before?” Jensen had become intrigued by the young knight when they met and the young man had won their first match, he was even more so after hearing of how well he had done at other tournaments. They were tied in wins before Jensen’s narrow victory earlier that day, very few knights could claim that.

“His men are...very familiar with him. Even more so than you allow me to be.” Steve answered thoughtfully as he set out Jensen’s tunic for that night. “When I walked up to them his herald was actually in an argument with him! I believe it was about whether or not he would be attending tonight. It appears he allows them to treat him like they are his full equals rather than his squires, though they do seem to normally try to be discrete about it around other people. I’ve also heard them call him ‘Jared’ on a few occasions when I’ve been on errands past their campsite.”

“Hmm. That’s interesting. Have I mentioned recently how frighteningly observant you are?”  
  
“It’s just part of my duties to you, m’lord.” Steve gave a playful, exaggerated bow to go with the retort.

“And I would be in a world of trouble if you ever turn it against me, I’m well aware of it.” Jensen chuckled and turned to see what he’d be wearing to meet the mysterious young knight again. “Really? That one? I thought you’d gotten rid of that one ages ago. Something about it getting a bit tight in the middle, if I remember correctly, along with the color going out of fashion... Or something.”

“And this is why you let me decide what you wear to events that require you not wear armor.” Steve muttered before he turned his attention back to his friend. “Yes, the _style_ had gone out of fashion, in Paris, where we were at the time and it was the shoulders that had gotten too small since it had been several months of rigorous training and no few battles since you had worn it last. I made some adjustments so it should fit perfectly again and the style is perfectly acceptable here. As for the color, it should compliment, if not match Sir Zawisza.”

“I still think there was a hidden barb about my middle back then, but I’ll leave that for now and merely thank you for your continued impeccable service and good sense.” Jensen teased. “And he’s not _my_ anything, he just fascinates me. To come out of nowhere, not a single hint of his name being mentioned at any tournament or court, even if he did come from Poland, is highly odd. Especially since he had talent enough to beat _me_ in his first tournament! It certainly wasn’t technique or strategy, other than that one deflection, but it seems to be instinct and pure brashness. I just want to know more about him, especially with this new tidbit about his men calling him a different, and familiar, name. No one I’ve mentioned him to had heard of him before that first tournament. Until he started winning everywhere, that is.” Steve silently raised an eyebrow at Jensen’s praise for the other knight and the respect in his tone. Jensen’s face colored and he ducked his head, beginning the process of getting ready for the banquet to try and distract Steve, and himself, from the topic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared’s training session, for lack of a better term, with Rosey had gone well enough and Chris had done an amazing job throwing together a suitable tunic in very little time. He’d left their tent area far more confident than he’d been that afternoon and it lasted right up until he walked in the door of the banquet hall. Jensen was, again, talking to another of the nobility and even more breathtaking than Jared remembered. Jensen must have been discreetly watching for him because as soon as Jared passed through the door, Jensen was making his excuses and leaving the conversation.

He was dressed in a truly beautiful leaf green tunic that was trimmed in a blue the color of wild forget-me-nots, the colors working together to make it seem like his eyes were glowing. It made him look magical. Ethereal. Jared managed to keep his feet moving and not trip over anything, but more from luck than watching where he was going.

“Ah, Sir Zawisza! I was afraid you’d changed your mind.” Jensen greeted him with his standard respectful bow and wit-scattering smile. 

“Sir Jensen.” Jared returned the bow. “I wouldn’t dare go back on my word. Nor would I want to, when the invitation was from you.”

“You flatter me and give me far too much importance, but I thank you. If you would care to join me again?” Jensen gestured over to an open place at one of the long tables in the hall. As they walked Jared saw Jensen give him a quick once over, looking at his tunic. “My squire was right, your tunic is indeed very interesting, like nothing I’ve seen before,” they sat and Jensen turned to face him, looked directly into his eyes, “but then neither are your eyes, which that tunic perfectly mirrors. Such unusual colors melded together to make something absolutely breathtaking.” His voice got softer as he spoke so that the end of the sentence was a whisper, almost as if he’d been talking to himself rather than to Jared. He shook himself out of his thoughts then looked down at his own tunic and chuckled. “My squire also assured me that we would compliment each other well, but I may need to have him get his eyes checked.”

Jared was sure his mouth was gaping open. Again. He was also pretty sure that he’d stopped breathing as soon as Jensen had locked with his eyes and that was something he needed to start doing again. Every lesson he’d learned from Rosey that afternoon flew out of his head and he started babbling.

“No! If anyone needs their eyes checked it’s you! You look marvelous, like some kind of mythical being out of a fairy story. There’s no way that I could be a match to such beauty…” Jared’s brain finally caught up with his mouth and he snapped it shut, then blushed crimson. “Umm. I mean… What I meant was-”

Jensen’s head tipped back with the most beautiful laugh Jared had ever seen. He laughed so hard that his arms came around to clutch at his middle and he nearly doubled over on the bench, his eyes scrunched shut to show the full depth of the creases beside each. Even as awed by the sight as Jared was, he wished that a hole would open up under the table so he could crawl into it and hide for the rest of eternity, but since none appeared, there was no graceful or, more importantly, inconspicuous way to leave and escape his embarrassment.

Jensen finally began to calm and noticed Jared’s discomfort. His demeanor changed abruptly and he seemed chagrined himself. “I apologize, Sir Zawisza, I wasn’t laughing at you, not truly, I promise you. I’ve just never had someone defend me from myself quite so forcefully before, or with such compliments. And you looked- Well, to be fully honest you looked adorable in your sincerity. Your blush is quite cute, too.” He raised a hand like he was going to brush it over Jared’s cheek, following the slowly fading blush, but a look of realization flashed over his face and he stopped himself just short, returning his hand to his lap and looked down. “I’m sorry again. I’m forgetting myself and being far too forward with you. You must forgive me, please.”

Jared reached out and tentatively touched Jensen’s arm, fingers skating down from shoulder to elbow with barely enough pressure to crease Jensen’s tunic . “No, I don’t- It- It’s okay, I don’t mind. Truly, Sir Jensen.”

A look of wonder came over Jensen’s face as he looked back up. “Who _are_ you, Sir Zawisza?

The use of his false name jarred Jared back to his senses. “I’m no one. Please excuse me.” Jared stood and fled the hall before Jensen could react. 

~~~~~Jensen~~~~~

“Steve! Steve, are you here?” Jensen entered his temporary rooms yelling for his squire.

Steve appeared from further in the suite where his own smaller room was. “Jensen? You’re back far too early, did something happen?”

“Yes! No? I don’t... know. I think I did something, but I have no Earthly idea what it was. The only thing that I _know_ I did wrong, he forgave me for without a problem and seemed fine, but then he took off! I need to do something. Is Tom still here?” Steve stepped in front of his friend to stop his agitated pacing.

“Why don’t you tell me from the beginning and we’ll see if I notice something you didn’t? Okay? Sit down, have a drink and collect your thoughts. I’ll go get some food since you apparently didn’t even eat and send for Tom in the meantime. He was waiting to leave with us in the morning.”

“Thank you, Steve. What would I do without you?”

The question was rhetorical, but Steve gave his standard answer anyway. “You’d have died horribly when we were ten and you decided that you could ride the stallion that even the stable master couldn’t handle.” 

“And you never let me forget it. He turned out to be the best warhorse and jousting steed I’ve ever seen though.” Jensen’s chuckle at the memory was enough to let Steve leave the room without worrying too much about his friend.

When he returned, food laden tray in hand, Jensen was much calmer and seemed to be deep in thought. “Jensen,” he said gently, trying not to startle him, “here, have some food and some more wine and tell your tale.”

“It was going so well…”

Tom knocked and called out to them part way through Jensen’s retelling of the evening. Jensen bid him enter and invited him to sit and join their makeshift meal as he continued. When he’d finished and they were all well fed and drinking a final glass of wine, Tom spoke up.

“This knight, I didn’t catch his name, you were only saying ‘he’ by the time I joined you, but I think I may have met him. Did his chest plate have a patch almost directly over his heart? And fit him ill?”

“Yes, the first match I had with him, on the last pass, his chest plate cracked. He must’ve had it patched but couldn’t afford to get new armor.”

“Ha! I _knew_ it was the same man. Sir Zawisza, right?” 

“The very same. How did you come to meet him? He hasn’t been at any of the same tournaments since then.”

“I was the one who patched it. I knew it had to have been a knight of your caliber to cause damage like that, but didn’t expect it to be you yourself! It was when you were called away and I went by myself. He said that the armor belonged to his father to explain the ill fit and not simply replacing the armor, but he was also a bit short in funds. Fine sense of humor, that one. Doesn’t act like any knight I’ve ever met. No offense intended.”

“None taken. I’ve noticed the same and so has Steve. He says that his squires and herald often refer to him by a different name as well.”

“They do. He wanted some way to pay me back for my work even though I’d offered it as an apology for an offense, so he allowed me to travel with them from that tournament to the next on my way to meet back up with you. On the journey, when they thought I was asleep or not paying attention, they’d sometimes call him Jared. And they treated him more as a friend than a master, but I have experience with knights like that.” Tom and Steve both smirked at Jensen.

“Yes, well if it weren’t for my family name, rank, and ability in jousting and in battle, I’d be a disgrace to all that is considered ‘knightly’, so I’m not a very good example of how knights should treat their servants.”

“Yes, only all of that keeps you from being a disgrace, not that you follow the Code of Chivalry as every knight is supposed to. Along with all of that.” Steve said and rolled his eyes.

Tom snorted a laugh in agreement. “But you didn’t know that I knew your knight when you called me here, so you must have needed me for something else?”

“Yes. I’m not so sure anymore judging on what you just told me, but I had an idea for an apology gift for...whatever it was I did to upset him enough to run off like that.” Jensen still looked slightly bewildered even after reciting the whole encounter.

“I have a hunch about that, but, if you’ll allow, I’ll keep my counsel on it for the moment.” Steve said thoughtfully.

“Your hunches are more accurate than my father’s best bowman on his best day, but if you wish to wait to tell me about it, so be it.”

“Your gift, sir?” Tom brought Jensen’s attention back from wandering and wondering.

“Ah, right. I was going to ask that you make him a set of armor using that new method you’ve been experimenting with to replace the old, broken, and ill fitting pieces he’s been wearing, but if his is inherited and worn to honor his father, I’m not sure that it wouldn’t upset him even more.”

“I’d be happy to. If he wears it and continues to do as well as he has been, it can only increase my chance of drawing in new buyers. Aside from that, it’s been a thorn in the back of my mind that he’s using such unsuitable armor. He’s going to get killed because of it if he isn’t careful. As for it being his father’s, my hunches aren’t as accurate as Steve’s are, but I think that was a spur of the moment excuse. I thought it at the time, but as I said, he is unlike any knight I’ve met, was in a tight spot, and I was horribly lacking in work. I accepted it more for his honor than actually believing it and he proved me right by returning and trying to settle his debt. You may still run into a problem with him accepting the gift, but perhaps a note sent along with the gift could ease any feelings of guilt he may feel?”

“Thank you, my friend. Send along a note with what I owe you and Steve will make sure you’re properly compensated. You know I’m good for it.” Jensen hummed thoughtfully. “You may be right about the note. I would prefer to deliver it in person, but I think that may not turn out so well. And my father has called me back home again, so I wouldn’t have the chance.”

“As you wish, my lord, I’ll get started on it as soon as we get back home and deliver it to him as soon as possible.” Tom stood and bowed, at which Jensen shook his head and told him to stop being foolish, then he left to start making plans for the new project.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He’s here.” Rosey came into the tent from where he’d been getting Jared registered for his event.

“Jensen?” Jared couldn’t help the hope that sprang up in his chest even though he’d been the one to run out on Jensen at the banquet. His heart didn’t care that it was going to get them all arrested and possibly killed.

“No, I didn’t see his shield and gossip says he’s been called back to his father’s holdings.” Rosey frowned and put a comforting hand on Jared’s shoulder, which had slumped at the news. “But Weatherly is here, returned from the wars at the command of the Prince. His armies were wreaking havoc; doing more damage off the battlefield than on it, according to rumors. So he’s come back to the circuit.”

“Good. Finally a chance for you to show that pompous horse’s ass exactly what you can do.” Chad said with a confident nod.

“I saw Harrington’s shield hanging in the lists as well, so you may get a rematch with him too.”

Jared took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the disappointment at not seeing Jensen again go with the next exhalation. He had some challenging opponents to concentrate on and pining over him wasn’t going to help him any. “Right. So, who am I up against first?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared had finished his matches the next day when Weatherly was set to start one of his, so the four companions went to watch and try to work out a strategy for beating the loathsome, arrogant man.

“Who is it he’s up against?” Jared asked when they had settled at the front of the crowd with the other knights there to observe.

“It’s Harrington. He must’ve recovered well enough from your last match with him.” Chris answered.

Harrington’s herald was halfway through his introduction when Weatherly’s herald ran up to the knight and spoke urgently to him. 

“What’s going on with that?” Jared asked and saw confusion and annoyance flash over Weatherly’s face before he motioned for his herald to leave. 

The herald ran back to the readying space behind Weatherly and grabbed a white pennant. He then ran to the stand in front of the nobles and respectfully placed it over his lord’s crest, signaling his forfeiture of the match.

“That’s not a good sign…” Jared said and ducked under the rail to watch as Weatherly left the field and headed back toward his tent.

“I’ll see what I can find out.” Rosey started off toward the knights’ tents where the other heralds would surely be talking.

Weatherly’s forfeiture meant he would no longer be participating in the tournament, so Jared’s hopes of a rematch were dashed, but it also meant he had another match to get ready for...and his opponent was Harrington.

On their way back to the tent to start preparing for the match, Jared caught sight of a familiar face just over the top of the rest of the crowd’s heads. 

“Tom!” Jared called to him as they got closer, “A pleasure to meet you again. I didn’t know you were set up here, I didn’t see your mark among the armorers when I was looking around earlier.” Jared shook the man’s hand and smiled warmly at him when they got close enough. 

“I’m not here officially, I’m just making a delivery, then I have to be on my way back.” Tom gestured for the men to continue the way they’d been going and joined their trek.

“A delivery? It must be important for you to come so far with no prospect of making anything while you’re here. I don’t want to keep you from your duties.”  
  


“You aren’t, m’lord. The delivery is actually for you.”

Jared stopped dead in the middle of the street they were walking down and stared at Tom, mouth agape. “M- Me? But I haven’t ordered anything from you. I haven’t even seen you since we parted ways for you to meet back up with your friend!”

“Indeed. If you would allow me to come with you back to your camp, I will explain.”

“Oh! Of course! Please, join us.” Jared shook out of his shock and resumed walking. “Do you have some time to stay or must you leave immediately? One of my matches got moved up unexpectedly and I must get ready for it.”

“My delivery might actually help you with that, m’lord, and I can stay long enough to ensure you are pleased with it, but I need to return as quickly as possible.” They reached the camp and Jared saw a large trunk that had not been there when they’d left to watch Weatherly’s match. Tom noticed his look at the unknown object. “Your tent is rather distinctive, m’lord, I apologize if I overstepped, but it seemed sensible to leave it here while I went to find you.”

“No, it’s quite alright, I was just surprised at the size.”

“Ah. Well, the friend that you remembered me going to meet up with? It seems that you know each other. He sent a note along with the delivery to explain for himself.” Tom pulled a roll of parchment from where it had been tucked into his belt under his tunic and handed it to Jared. Jared stared at Tom in confusion for a moment, then took the proffered note and began to read.

_My Dearest Zawisza,_

_I must first apologize that I cannot be there to present_

_you with this gift in person. I have been called away_

_on other business, but please know that my thoughts_

_are there with you and I would give most anything to_

_be there as well._

_I have asked Tom, a friend to us both, though neither_

_of us knew it, to deliver this gift in the hope that it will_

_begin to soothe the hurt that I caused you at our last_

_meeting. I had no intention to cause you pain and_

_have felt lower than the lowest rat in the gutter for_

_having done so._

_There should only ever be a smile on your handsome_

_face, for that smile, I have come to believe, is the_

_reason the sun shines in the morn and the moon_

_glows in the night. Without the radiance that comes_

_from your happiness, the world should surely plunge_

_into the deepest darkness and all that is good would_

_fade. I know that it is so in my own world when I think_

_of anything other than joy crossing your features._

_Even if it is too late to undo the harm that I have_

_wrought, please accept this gift and my wishes for_

_your continued safety and victory on the field._

_Jensen_

Jared was struggling to hold back tears from how heartfelt the letter was. The man couldn’t have any notion what it was he’d said that upset Jared enough to have him fleeing the banquet and yet he’d not only taken all the blame for it on himself, he’d had Tom bring a gift of apology. When he finally got himself under control and looked up from the page he saw that Tom had discreetly moved off to the side with Chris and Chad to try and give him some privacy. 

“He doesn’t- He can’t even-”

Tom’s eyes widened and he stepped back over toward Jared, arms outstretched in supplication. “I swear to you, my lord, that he is in earnest. I saw him before he wrote you that note, I have never, in the time since we were children together, seen him look that way about anything. He is not one to show his emotions too freely, but it was clear that he was distressed about whatever had happened between you.” 

Jared realized his hesitance seemed to be anger to the other man, rather than the stunned disbelief that it truly was. “I believe you, and him, Tom, that wasn’t what I was trying to say. I meant that there is no way he could know what caused my reaction. None of it was his fault, though he takes all of it on himself. He has no need to apologize for anything.”

“Will you… Are you rejecting his gift, m’lord?” The look of pure sadness that crossed Tom’s face before he could hide it solidified Jared’s decision.

“No. I’m not rejecting his gift, simply saying that there was no reason for him to send one for he’s done nothing that would require an apology. If anything it is I who owes him one.”

Relief flooded Tom’s face and he didn’t even try to hide it. “Thank you, my lord. I don’t know what reaction he would have had if I’d brought this back, but I know I’d rather you sold it or melted it down than have to be the bearer of that news.”

“Neither of those will be happening, I’m sure. So, what wonder have you wrought on behalf of our dear knight?”

“Ah, allow me.” Tom reached over and opened the trunk to reveal a carefully packed pile of armor. He began to remove the pieces and set them out on the canvas that covered the ground around the tent. When he’d finished unpacking a full set of armor was laid out precisely, each piece organized to show approximately what it would look like on a person.

“It’s… I’ve never seen armor like this!” Jared looked at it in astonishment.

“I’ve been working on a new way to heat the steel so it’s just as strong, but much lighter, easier to move in. Would you be willing to try it?”

“You made this...for me? It even looks like it’s the right size.”

“As I told you when we met, it’s a hazard of my profession to be able to see how armor should fit a man, that also means that I can also make the armor _to_ fit the man.”

“Even when not having seen the man in several months, so it would seem.”

“That part I could work out reasonably well by using myself to measure off of. A bit taller, a bit less bulky. Would you like to test it?”

“I’d be honored.” 

It turned out that Tom’s estimates were nearly perfect, enough that the padding necessary underneath the armor easily made up for any slight discrepancies.

“I don’t doubt your abilities, Tom, your patch on my chest plate probably saved my life a number of times in the months since you did it and hasn’t shown a sign of weakening, but this armor- It feels too thin, like a lance will tear through it like parchment. And you said the technique is new. Can you be sure it will hold?”

“Yeah, we don’t want you to have come all this way to deliver the thing just for him to die right after you leave.” Chad threw out “helpfully”.

Tom glared at him. He refrained from beating the man solely because he’d learned on their previous journey that Chad usually meant well, he just had an overly straightforward way of putting things, and ultimately it was Jared’s safety he was worried about. “Would you at least be willing to test it?”

“A- Alright, yes. What did you have in mind? We don’t really have time to do a practice ride.”

“I have an idea.”

The idea was to connect a large wooden beam to a pulley system set up in the workspace of a fellow armorer that Tom knew and then have Tom and Chris push it as hard as they could directly into Jared's chest plate.

"I thought we were trying _not_ to kill him." Chad quipped from off to the side, well away if anything should go wrong.

"The armor will hold. I would wear it myself, but I didn't make it to fit me" Tom growled through clenched teeth.

"Hmm. Likely story."

"Let's just get this over with, we're running out of time." Jared stood in front of a large stack of grain sacks, hoping they would cushion his landing when the beam hit him.

"Okay. Ready?" Tom and Chris both grabbed the beam and set themselves to push.

"Not in the slightest. Come on." Jared braced himself for the impact, but it still threw him into the air and back on the grain sacks.

"JA- uhh, just stay down a second!" Chad swore under his breath at his slip and ran over to where Jared had landed.

"No need! I didn't feel a thing! And I don't even need help to get back up with as light as it is!"

The grin plastered on Tom's face showed every tooth he had. "So you accept?"

"Yes." Jared smiled softly thinking of Jensen, but also felt guilt for accepting the extravagant gift that he didn't deserve. "Please give Sir Jensen my gratitude, acceptance, and my own apology. I hope to see him soon to convey them again myself."

"I know he wishes to see you as well. He nearly didn’t heed his father’s call to return home because he didn’t know when he’d have the chance to see you again.”

Jared’s eyes widened at Tom’s confession, then he ducked his head to hide his blush. “I’m glad he did go. I don’t want to be the cause of strife between father and son. He has duties that he must attend to and he shouldn’t give me a second thought. Though he is often the center of mine.” He added the last in a mutter to himself.

“Well, you are armored and need to be making preparations for your next match and I must be heading on my own way. I hope to see you soon, Sir Zawisza. And… no, never mind. Good luck, Sir.” Tom bowed and turned to leave.

Jared called out to stop him. “No, wait! What was it you were going to say? It seemed important to you.”

“I was just going to ask, if it wouldn’t inconvenience you too terribly, to pass my greetings on to Master Rosenbaum, but you are no errand boy and I didn’t want to overstep my place.”

“I would be happy to pass along your greetings, Master Welling, and I’m quite sure he will be even happier to receive them.” Jared grinned at Tom’s blush before the man turned once more and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared walked to his readying area surrounded by the laughter of anyone who saw him, mocking him for the parchment thin armor that couldn’t possibly do anything to protect him, but they were all silenced when he was able to mount without having to be bodily shoved up into the saddle by his squires or even the help of the mounting steps. He looked across the field to see Harrington already waiting with his helmet on and visor down.

Rosey came running up, gasping as if he’d sprinted all the way from the farthest reaches of the tournament area.

“Ah, Rosey! Catch your breath while I give you some news.” Jared said as he got his helmet settled. “You’ll be interested to know who we met in the time since we saw you last. Tom! He sends along his most heartfelt greetings to you.” Jared’s teasing smile melted off of his face when he saw the serious look on Rosey’s. “What is it? What have you found out?”

“It’s the Prince.”

“What? What’s happened to the Prince?” Chad asked from his place beside Jared.

“No, Harrington _is_ the Prince. Jared, you must withdraw. I’ll go and mark it for the Knight Marshall.” Rosey took off with the white pennant.

“He must be hiding his identity so he can ride, like you.” Chris mused.

Jared considered for a minute, then looked across at Harrington, or Prince Stephen by his true name, who had seen Rosey with the white flag and looked dejected at another opponent withdrawing. “Lance.”

“What?” “You can’t!” Chris and Chad yelled simultaneously.

Jared ignored them both and yanked his lance out of Chad’s hand, then kicked his horse into motion. Prince Amell’s face broke into a fierce grin as he called for his own lance and took off to meet Jared. The two met and clashed, lances splintering and knocking both men back in the saddle. Rosey darted in front of Jared on his way back to his starting place.

“You knowingly endanger a member of the royal family. You could be arrested and killed for that.”

Jared lifted his visor and looked to where the Prince was starting to head back toward him. “He knows the risk and places himself in danger.” Rosey threw his hands up in defeat and walked back to Chris and Chad muttering angrily while Jared waited for the Prince to approach.

“Sir Zawisza! Well done, as it was when last we met!”

“And you as well... Prince Stephen.”

The Prince removed his helmet, a look of confused delight on his face. The crowd gasped as they recognized who he was. “You knew who I was!” Jared merely nodded. “And you still rode out?”

“It is not in me to withdraw.”

“Nor I, but it must happen, sometimes,” Jared simply nodded again at the memory of their last match. “as it must happen again now. I wish you luck in the rest of the tournament, though you don’t seem to need it.” Jared bowed his head to acknowledge the compliment, then both men saluted each other and rode off the field.

“Haunting you.” was all Chris said when he reached where his friends had huddled together until his fate was decided.

“I know. Come on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last tournament of the year was to be held in London on the order of the Prince, to celebrate the birth of his son. Jared hadn’t been back to his home since his father had given him over into Sir Mark’s care when he was still a child to try and improve his chances in life, so it was somewhat bittersweet for Jared to return to the city. He had fond memories of growing up, but he didn’t even know if his father was still alive to see what he had made for himself. And he didn’t know if Jensen would be able to compete or not. Without knowing whether Jensen had been sent abroad to fight, Jared had no way to communicate with him. Any letter sent to him could take longer to reach the man than waiting to see him in person again. 

Those thoughts clung to Jared’s mind as he rode in the parade through streets that he had once run down as a child, past familiar landmarks and buildings that had both stayed the same and completely changed in the time he’d been away. He was still lost in thought when they lined up in front of the nobles’ viewing boxes to present themselves to Prince Stephen and his wife. He found the Prince’s gaze on him when he looked up and they exchanged subtle nods of respect.

“It seems you’ve made some very important _friends_ and done well at tournaments while I’ve been away, Zawisza. And you’ve finally joined this century with your armor. Congratulations.” 

Jared stiffened in his saddle as the owner of the voice registered. “I try to make friends wherever I go, _Count_ Weatherly. You never know when you might be in need of one.” He didn’t look over at the man, but kept his eyes focused on the stands in front of him, noting several empty seats around the Prince.

“It makes no difference. No matter the friends you’ve made, on the field it’s you alone and there is still no world in which you could beat me.”

Jared finally let his gaze settle on Weatherly. “I wouldn’t count on that, sir, the world has a way of changing when you least expect it.” 

He looked back into the stands and proved his words right when he saw Jensen settling into the seat to the left of Prince Amell. Their eyes caught and held, shocked hazel staring into vibrant green, then Jensen gave his signature half smirk and bowed his head to Jared without breaking the stare.

“Hmm. Another new _friend_ , I presume. Shame, you obviously don’t know him very well.”

That made Jared tear his eyes away from Jensen’s. “What do you mean?”

“His father owes some debts. Not financial, of course, but favors to some very powerful people. Sir Jensen is being used to settle them. Anyone who knows him or the Ackles family knows about it, so you obviously don’t.”

“How- How can he be used to settle debts? He’s noble, so he can’t be made a servant and his father wouldn’t let their family name be tarnished that way.”

“Marriage. One of the people he owes a debt to is looking for a partner and has decided Jensen will settle both, two birds with one stone.” Weatherly turned his head to leer at Jensen, “And what a diamond that stone is.”

“You?! You want to marry J- _Sir_ Jensen?” Jared felt that if his eyes got any wider they’d fall straight out of his head.

“He’s quite nice to look at and has no solid attachments to his father’s estates since he has an older brother that will be taking them over. The best he could do outside of marriage for alliance would be leading troops in the King’s army, so really it’s for the best.”

Jared thought about the times Jensen had been called back home by his father. He’d thought it was for some kind of business with his father’s holdings, but apparently it had been negotiations for selling him to whoever held the most leverage. He looked back up at Jensen in the stands and met the same vibrant green, now shaded with worry and confusion. Jared couldn’t stand the thought of what Weatherly would do to break Jensen before trying to mold him into the husband he wanted. He reined his horse around and dug his heels into its flanks; he didn’t drop Jensen’s gaze until it lurched forward toward the end of the field.

He had to get away and clear his head before he did something he would regret, so Jared took his horse and rode aimlessly through the streets, unconsciously heading to the poorest area of London, the view becoming more familiar the closer he got. When he got close to his childhood home, he saw a girl playing with a toy lance sitting outside of a shop, probably belonging to her parents.

“Hello there.”

“Hello, Sir.” She said absently, still looking down at her toy. Jared’s horse stomped a foot impatiently and drew the girl’s attention. Her eyes grew huge and round as she looked up and up to see Jared’s face where he was still sitting in the saddle. “I- I know you! You’re Sir Zawisza! I saw you in the parade today, you’re my favorite knight!”

“Oh, really? I’m honored to have such a steadfast fan.”

The girl beamed at him, then grew confused. “But...what are you doing down here? Knights never come down here, they stay in the better parts of the city.”

Jared leaned down in his saddle and asked conspiratorially, “Can you keep a secret?” 

The girl nodded so hard it looked like she was going to fall over. Jared squinted at her like he was judging whether or not he could really trust her. “I grew up not far from here. Just over there, in fact.”  
  


“You were?!”

“Mmmhmm. How old are you?”

“I’m eight. Just turned three days ago.”

“Eight years old! Well, do you know of a man, big and strong as any knight, that used to live in that building right there? His name was Jeffrey. He might have died before you were born though.”

“Oh, yes! I know him. He still lives in that same place, always has.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Our mothers and fathers don’t like us kids being around him, though. They say he’ll fill our heads with wool and get us in trouble for trying to be better than we are.”

“That sounds like the same man for sure. Thank you.”

“Good luck in the tournament, Sir Zawisza!”

“Thank you! I hope you get to see some of it and I’ll be sure to win a match just for you.”

Jared nudged his horse into motion and aimed toward his childhood home down the road. When he got there and entered the rooms where his father lived, the man was staring absently out the window and seemed not to notice his presence. “Hello? Master Morgan?”

“Yes? What? Who’s there?” His father jumped and spun around in the chair he’d been sitting in at the window. “I’m not open for business now, but if you want to come back tomorrow I’ll be able to see you then.” He turned back to the window, content to let the stranger show himself out.

“I’m...not here on business. I have a message for you from someone you haven’t seen in a long while.”

Jeffrey turned back around slowly and stared hard at Jared. “Who _are_ you?”

“”My name is Sir Zawisza, I’m a knight here for the tournament.”

“I’ve heard that name quite a bit. Could hear it being chanted from the stadium just this afternoon. You said you had a message for me?”

“Yes, from Jared.”

“Jar- Jared? My son?”

“The very same. He wanted you to know that he’s worked hard and he’s followed his dreams. He’s changed his life and has you to thank for it. Without your guidance and faith in him he never would have taken the risk he needed to, to end up where he is.” Both men had tears tracking silently down their cheeks.

“And he’s come back home to his father? To share his tale?”

“Yes. Yes, he has.” Jared flung himself into his father’s arms and hugged him tight, his father doing the same even though he had to stand on his toes to reach.

Jeffrey invited Jared to stay for a meager, but filling dinner and fill him in on everything that had happened since he’d left him with Sir Mark as a boy.

“Chad sounds like an...interesting fellow, Chris seems like a good man, too, I’d love to meet them both sometime. And you! You’ve grown so big!”

Jared chuckled. “You will, father, I’m sure they’d love to meet you, too. Yes, a constant source of annoyance for Sir Mark was keeping me in clothes that would fit well enough to not embarrass him at tournaments. And again when I grew taller, and stronger, than he was, but he treated me well enough and taught me what I needed to know to be able to do what I’m doing.”

“Good. I thought he was a good man when I spoke to him, but I’ve always worried that I was wrong. And what of love? Has anyone caught your heart? Or even just your eye?”

Jared blushed crimson and ducked his head. “Ah, yes, actually, someone has caught both fairly recently, but I don’t know how it could ever work, or if he even feels the same. I know he’s...shown interest, but I don’t know if it’s more than that.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck underneath his hair and looked up at his father. “Besides, he knows “Sir Zawisza”, not Jared. Sir Zawisza would be appropriate for him, Jared could never be. Being with him would be constantly lying to him and I can’t do that to him, not to mention the danger I’d be putting him in if I were found out.”

“If he knows Sir Zawisza, then he knows you because you have always been a knight in your heart and I know that becoming one on paper and changing what you’re called hasn’t changed what’s inside you, and if he has met you and hasn’t fallen for you, then he is a fool.”

Jared ducked his head again, then walked over to look out the window and across what he could see of the city. “You have to say that, you’re my father. I think that I see the same things I feel reflected back at me when I look in his eyes, but I can’t be sure.”

What Jared did not see as he stood at the window looking out, backlit by the lamps in his father’s home and with the setting sun shining on his face, was the man talking to an eight year old girl just down the street who pointed in his direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared couldn’t help it. At the start of each match the next day, and every free moment he had between passes, he looked for Jensen in the stands sitting at his place next to Prince Stephen. He knew it was pointless; nothing could ever happen between him and Jensen, even if the marriage to Weatherly wasn’t looming, because he refused to knowingly put Jensen in that kind of danger, but it was a compulsion. It also didn’t matter because Jensen was never there when he looked.

“You have _got_ to get focused!” Chris growled at him when he came back from a pass where he’d completely missed his opponent and the hit he’d taken had caught him off guard and nearly knocked him to the ground.

“I know, Chris, I know, but where _is_ he? I know he was up there yesterday and he wouldn’t want to miss the tournament, even if he’s not competing in it.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to look for him if you keep on like you are and lose all of your matches! Not to mention, if you keep getting hit like you are and not preparing for it, you’re also going to get seriously hurt, fantastic new armor or not.”

“I know, I’m just...worried. There isn’t much that could keep him from being here and nothing that could is a good thing.”

“I’m sure there’s a good, and not life threatening, reason for it. Now concentrate, you’ve missed the flag.”

“What?!” Jared grabbed the lance that Chad was holding up to him and met his opponent just three strides past his end of the tilt. He hadn’t gained enough momentum to break his lance, though he had at least made contact that time, and the opponent’s aim was dead on his shoulder. Pain ripped through Jared’s arm like lightning. His hand could no longer grip the reins, but his horse knew enough to head back to the right side of the field without his guidance.

Chris caught the horse’s bridle as it got back to him and looked up at Jared, who’s face had gone white behind his visor. “That’s the third match you’ve lost, if you lose any more you have no hope of getting to the final, even now some of the better knights would have to take key losses for you to make it.”

“Chris, I-”

Chad came up on his other side yelling. “What the bleeding Hell is going on! Are you not seeing the shining man on the big animal headed toward you? Did you take a hit to the head that we don’t know about that caused you to forget how to joust?” 

“He’s distracted by the absence of a certain person, not by a blow to the head _Lucas_!” Chris hissed at him.

“Lindsey!” Chris’ head whipped around toward Jared at the use of his fake name. “I need help. Something is wrong with my arm.” Jared gestured down to where his left arm was hanging mostly limp in his lap with a short nod of his head.

“Chad, let’s get him away from here, the match is over anyway. Grab what you can and call for a pageboy to help with the rest. I’ll get him back to our camp so I can figure out what’s wrong.”

After he helped Jared to dismount, Chris prodded at his shoulder and determined that the last blow had dislocated it. When Chad returned with their equipment they went to the surgeon’s tent to make use of one of the contraptions he had for such injuries. They got Jared’s arm strapped into the machine and Chad started to twist the correct part to stretch the shoulder straight out while Chris massaged the muscles around it to loosen them for the joint to pop back in.

“You know,” Chad said as he paused twisting to let Chris work, “you need to figure out how to deal with this...thing you have with Ackles. Every time he’s around you get all screwy. It was disgustingly sweet at first, but now it’s threatening your chances of winning and therefore my food supply.” His next twist was longer and a little more harsh than it needed to be.  
  
“I can’t help it. He’s everything to me, my sun and moon, my reason for continuing on. I can only be near him if I can keep this up-AH!” A particularly strong twist from Chad cut him off.

“You started this, Jaaaaa-red,” another long twist, “with promises of glory and riches. We’ve had plenty of both so far, but winter is coming and we’ve no place to stay,” twist, “and no guarantee that we’ll be able to survive on what we have now.” 

“We’re back in England, you can go home for the winter like you haven’t in years, I’m not going to ask you to stay if you don’t want to-oooooh!” Chris glared at Chad for his roughness, but didn’t say anything in Jared’s defense. 

“You love him, but does he feel the same about you?” With one more twist to accompany the verbal arrow from Chad and a shove from Chris the shoulder joint popped back into place and Chris started to undo the straps.

“I don’t know, I think so, but- Ah!” He cut off when Chris pulled his arm out of the machine and let it go before Jared was ready, “but I have to try and find out and to do that I need to see him.”

“Ahem.” Three heads jerked in the direction of the new voice.

“Steve.” Chris said softly. Chad and Jared shared a look of awe and amusement before looking back at Jensen’s squire. Steve’s eyes cut over to Chris for a second and he blushed lightly before remembering the task he was sent to do.

“Uh, Sir Zawisza, my lord wanted to request an audience with you after you are done with your matches for the day.”

“I, um…” 

Chris cut in. “My lord has been injured, though not severely, and requires some time to rest and get ready before he will be able to entertain company. Would your lord be amenable to meeting after the evening meal?”

Chris moved over to Steve and deftly guided him away from Jared and the surgeon’s tent while making plans for the meeting between Jared and Jensen that night. Jared and Chad stared at the point where Chris had disappeared with their mouths agape for a few seconds before turning to each other and breaking into a laugh. When they calmed back down Chad put a hand on Jared’s good shoulder and squeezed lightly, a small smile of apology on his face. Jared simply reached up with his good arm and patted his hand, amends made and accepted, then the friends left to go back to their camp and prepare for Jensen’s visit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rosey found Tom between Jared’s matches and had decided to spend some time with the man while the rest of his companions dealt with the normal tasks that accompanied jousting after his introduction had been made. The time had gotten away from him and dark had fully descended before he left Tom’s company to return to camp and see how the day had gone. As he passed by Jared’s separate tent he saw Jensen discreetly slipping through the flap. “Ah, the lover returns. Enjoy your reunion, my friend.” He muttered to himself as he continued on his way to the tent that he, Chris, and Chad shared.

Jared was laying on his bed in the tent, resting his arm and trying to not move it too much. Chris had wrapped bandages around his shoulder to try and bind it to his side so he would not injure it more in his sleep, but he was having more trouble not using it while he was still awake, especially since he was nervous about Jensen’s visit and he needed to move when he was nervous.

“Sir Zawisza, you’re hurt.” Jensen spoke softly, his voice filled with concern, but Jared still jumped at the unexpected sound.

“It’s mostly a precaution. I… I move a lot and Chris didn’t want it to pop out again.”

A flash of confusion crossed Jensen’s face, but Jared was looking down at his hands, when he looked back at Jensen there was only concern.

“I’ve seen you go up against knights far better than those you faced today and come out without a scratch.” Jensen sat down on the edge of the bed and covered Jared’s uninjured hand with his own. “Something very strange must have happened for you to end up like this.”

Jared blushed hard and looked away. “I was...ah. I was distracted. My mind was...somewhere else, instead of on the field and my opponents. I took more hits than I should have over the day and my last opponent had perfect aim.”

“And what could have taken your mind so far away? I’ve never seen a knight more focused and in the moment than you are when you’ve got a lance in your hand.”

“I was looking for someone. Someone I thought would be in the stands since they weren’t holding a lance of their own, but they were not. They never showed up.” Jared looked shyly up at Jensen through the hair that had fallen over his face.

“Oh, my beautiful knight. I am the cause of this, I’ve hurt you again.” Jensen cupped Jared’s cheek and slid his thumb along the bone. “How can I make this up to you? How can you look at me that way when I seem to only cause you pain?”

“Yes, you are the cause, but pain, sadness, all of the bad things in life only serve to make the good things that much better. You, being here with me, what I see now in your eyes when you look at me, that is worth any amount of physical pain that I might have to endure.” Their eyes locked and both unconsciously leaned in toward each other, Jensen’s hand slid back to tangle his fingers in Jared’s hair and he closed his eyes. Then he gasped a breath and tipped his head down so their foreheads were touching, but their mouths could not. 

Jared did his best to look at Jensen from how close he was, but the other man still had his eyes closed.

“I…” Jensen huffed, but still didn’t move back or take his hand out of Jared’s hair. “I need to tell you something first.”

Jared tried to pull back, but Jensen held him in place. “I know about Weatherly. He told me yesterday at the presentation, during the opening ceremony.” He shut his eyes in case Jensen looked at him after he spoke, not wanting to show how much it hurt him.

That made Jensen pull back, but he still didn’t move his hand. “Weatherly? What about... That was why you took off so fast. I wondered what had made you react like that. Weatherly has a grand view of himself and thinks he can get whatever he wants, whenever he wants, but that doesn’t mean he can.” Jensen tightened his grip on Jared’s hair. Jared refused to open his eyes, he couldn’t let himself believe what Jensen was saying.

“But, your father…”

“My father may owe some favors, but his debts are _not_ mine and I will not be used as payment. I have made friends of my own in my travels and, with their support, I can be sure I will not be some _trophy_ for a man who would treat me as less than his horse.”

Jared sagged from the wave of relief that flooded through him. Jensen’s grip on his hair pulled for a moment before he could follow Jared’s movement and let his forehead rest on Jensen’s shoulder. 

“That wasn’t what I needed to tell you, though I’m glad we could clear that up as well.” Jensen rubbed gently at Jared’s nape, easing any sting left from the pull. Jared realized what he was doing and sat back away from Jensen quickly, then immediately paled when pain shot through his injured shoulder. “Easy. Easy, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” Jensen soothed and stroked through the soft locks he couldn’t seem to leave alone now that he’d touched them.

“What- If that wasn’t it then what did you need to say?” Jared’s voice shook when he spoke, but he couldn’t imagine what more could need to be said.

“I… I followed you. Yesterday. After you ran off from the ceremony I wanted to see what had upset you so much and if I could do anything about it, so I followed you. It took me a while to catch up because you didn’t seem to have any real destination in mind, but I could just catch glimpses of you over the tops of the crowd or going around corners. I thought I’d lost you for good, but there was a little girl sitting out on the street and I asked if she’d seen the tallest knight in all of England going by. She was so excited to have seen you and that you stopped to talk to her that she forgot it was supposed to be a secret. She really loved you, and it was so kind of you to stop to talk. That’s one of the things I love about you, your kindness to everyone you meet.”

Jared had gone completely white as Jensen made his confession, wide eyes staring at him in shock and no small amount of fear. “And...and what else did she tell you?”

Jensen’s hand stilled and he looked straight into Jared’s eyes. “She said that you asked about Master Jeffrey Morgan, the man that would fill their heads with wool about working hard and making a better life for themselves, who lived near where you grew up, and that you’d gone to see him. I saw you...standing at the window and looking out over the rooftops. I know your men sometimes call you Jared and that Master Jeffrey had a son with the same name, once. One he sent off to live and train with a knight, hoping it would lead him to a better life than the one he could provide.”

Jared closed his eyes and tipped his head down in defeat. A tear slid down his cheek. “And what will you do with all of this that you’ve come to know, Sir Jensen?”

“Nothing, Jared.” Jensen gently wiped away the tear and tilted Jared’s head back up, but Jared’s eyes stayed shut. “I told you that I have no wish to ever hurt you and that doesn’t change just because I now know you by a different name. I just want you to know you don’t have to lie to me anymore, you can be yourself. Though I have a feeling Sir Zawisza and Jared have more in common than they don’t, with the exception of birth and rank.”

Jared’s eyes opened to a softer, more uncertain version of Jensen’s usual half smirk. He tried to speak for a minute, but no sound was coming out. The smirk faded from Jensen’s face and he looked even more unsure.

“I swear to you, Jared, I will never use any of this against you. On my honor as a knight of the King of England, I swear it.” Jensen automatically moved to place his right fist over his heart, sealing the oath.

“I believe you, I trust your oath. I just… I can’t… You’ll be in danger, too, if anyone finds out that you know. They could hang you!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing, and happy, to take for the chance to be with you. Do you still not know what you’ve come to mean to me?” He held Jared’s face in his hands gently, but firmly, thumbs gliding back and forth over the skin. “From the first time I saw you looking at the cheering crowd of people, commoners and nobles both, utter joy lighting up your face. I meant what I wrote in that letter; my sun and moon show bright only because of you and it has been so since that moment. Every moment since has only added to my admiration for you. Your courage, your mercy, your humility, your strength, your kindness, your nobility. All of the qualities that make a knight, I’ve seen in you, time and time again. I am in awe of you, Jared.”

Jensen waited for a response and Jared could only stare in silence for a moment while he processed what Jensen had said, then he lunged forward to press his lips to Jensen’s like he’d dreamed of doing since he first knew what kissing was. The initial impact was a little too rough, but after a second of shocked stillness, Jensen tilted their heads to make their lips line up perfectly and eased away slightly to gentle the kiss. Nothing had ever felt as good to Jared as finally kissing the man in front of him and having him return it. One kiss led to another and another until they finally had to break away for breath. Jensen turned his biggest, beaming smile on Jared and he was momentarily stunned again by the man’s pure beauty before he grinned back. Jensen’s mouth dropped open a little in surprise, then the smile returned, somehow even brighter. Jared’s brow creased at the change. 

“Dimples.” Jensen said and moved to rub his thumbs over the divots. “You have dimples.” Jared smiled harder at the observation, which made the dimples even deeper, and Jensen chuckled in delight.

“I… There’s something else I need to tell you.” Jared tried to hide behind his hair again, but Jensen’s hold wouldn’t let him.

“All of the revelations all at once, I see.” Jensen took a deep breath and let it out, still holding Jared so he had to look at him. “Alright, what else is there that I need to know?”

“The first tournament, the one you were talking about…”

“Yes, I remember it. Quite well, in fact.” The smile that went with the quip was soft, nostalgic, and just a little suggestive.

Jared huffed, but he was smiling. “That wasn’t the first time I met you. Well, I didn’t exactly “meet” you the first time, but I saw you, and I think… I think you saw me too, but you wouldn’t have any reason to remember it. I was just a kid in a crowd of people screaming your name.”

“Just a kid… before your father sent you with Sir Mark?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what made him do it. I told him that I wanted to grow up to be a knight just like you. We’d heard stories of you, how your skill on a jousting field was unmatched and your skill on a battlefield was proving to be the same. The man in the stocks laughed, but my father told me I could do anything if I worked hard for it. He talked to Sir Mark after the tournament and sent me off with him the next day.”

“That was… I was hardly more than a child myself! I was just trying to make my father proud and make a name for myself separate from him and my brother. Hold on… the man in the stocks. You were the boy perched up on top of the stocks along the parade route! The last tournament held here, when Prince Stephen came of age?”

“Y- yes? Why would you remember that? You’ve done so many things, been so many places, why would you remember one little peasant boy among hundreds of other people screaming your name?”

“Just the same as why you stood out to me the next time we met, Jared, your smile. I knew even then that fans were fickle and would drop their favorite knight as soon as he lost, but that boy’s smile when he saw me, _your_ smile, was the only genuine one I saw that day. I was scared, mostly still a child myself, trying to deal with all the pomp and ceremony I was suddenly thrust into. That one genuine smile, just for me, was enough to get me through that. If one small peasant boy, who didn’t really know me from anyone, could have that much belief in me, then so could I.”

“I… I don’t know what to even say to that.”

“Then say nothing. You say I inspired you and you inspired me, all before we ever even formally met. It seems God had a plan for us and we are fulfilling it.” Jensen pressed a barely there kiss to Jared’s lips. “You, my dear knight, have to compete in the morning and it has gotten very late. I should go and let you get your rest; I don’t want to be the cause of any more of your losses. And you have to keep your word to that little girl. You must win a match just for her, she’ll be listening for the cheers of your name when you win.”

“Ha, she told you that, too, huh?” Jared shook his head. 

“She was very excited about it, a jousting match won just for her. Her parents may not thank you when no one can live up to her expectations when she gets older.”

“Please don’t go. I promise I’ll rest, but I don’t want to let you go yet. I feel like I’ve been without you far too long already.”

“Alright, my brave and battered knight, I’ll stay with you, but only to make sure you are well rested and ready to face anything that may come.” Jensen moved to lay down next to Jared, only stopping to remove his boots before he joined him under the blanket and took Jared into his arms.

“Jensen?” Jared relished being able to call him by his name without formality while being pressed close against him, but there had been something bugging him. “Why do you keep calling me that? You know I’m not really a knight, you don’t have to keep up the lie.”

“You are more knightly than half of the men that I have faced that bear the title. You hold to the Code of Chivalry even when you are not bound by it while others see making the promise to uphold it as a silly formality required to get their titles. You are a knight in your heart and always have been. You are _my_ knight and no one can change that. Now hush, and rest.”

“Goodnight, Jensen.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jensen had to leave early the next morning to return to his rooms and get ready for the last day of the tournament as the Prince’s personal guest, but he left Jared with a kiss and a wish of luck for the day. Jared felt more rested and revived than he had in years and was ready for any and all who would face him. 

He was in the stables recounting his visit to his father’s and Jensen’s visit to see him while they strapped his armor strapped on for his first match when Rosey came in followed by Jensen himself.

“Rosey! Jensen! I’m so happy you came by before the match. I know we only parted a few hours ago, but it feels like it’s been an age, and I could use some more of your luck before I go out.”

“You won’t be going out, Jared. They know you aren’t a knight, they asked to see your patents and are waiting to arrest you as soon as you go out.” Rosey said solemnly.

Jared wouldn’t believe it, couldn’t, but he still looked over at Jensen, trying not to be accusing, but he didn’t know how well he succeeded.

“I’m so sorry, Jared. When I followed you...apparently Weatherly followed me. He found your father and reported it back to the Marshall. I swear to you that I didn’t know, I never suspected that anyone would follow me. I should’ve known since he already thought of me as his property that he wouldn’t allow me too far out of his sight. Please believe that I wouldn’t do this intentionally.”

“I believe you, I trust the oath you made to me. So, now everyone will know. I’ll be arrested and possibly put in jail for the rest of my life, however long that may be.”

“No. You can run. Leave all the baggage, the tents, everything. The horses are right here, just get on and run.” Chris moved over to get Jared’s horse out of his stall.

“Hold, Chris.” Jared kept looking at Jensen. “You can still leave and go with Weatherly, he’s far more appropriate for you than someone like me. If anyone found out you’d lose everything, your name, the reputation that you’ve gained for yourself. You can still distance yourself from all this, tell them I was lying to you, too. It’s even the truth. All I have to offer is a cold and hungry life on the run or, worst case, a life in jail or one that ends in the stocks.”

“I can’t. I won’t, you know that. I’m not going to leave you or turn away. I can live with hungry and cold, I can’t live knowing you’re jailed or dead. Please, do as Chris says and run. I’ll follow as soon as it’s safe.”

“No! I’m not going to run. I am a knight. Knights are brave, they face the consequences of their actions. They. Do. Not. Run.”

“Yes, you have all the things that knights are supposed to, except the bloodline and the papers proving it. Those are the only things they care about.” Chris tried again.

“Chad, you know. You’ve gotten in more trouble than anyone I’ve ever known and you never run.”

“Never like this. This is royalty. Nobles and courts. For this? I would run.”

“Rosey?”

“I was running from my troubles when you met me, Jared. I care too much for you to give any other answer. Run.”

“NO! I… am a knight.” Jared nearly whimpered the last, his eyes pleaded for anyone to stand with him. 

Chris caved. “Damn the puppy eyes! Fine, we go down together then. Finished getting armored and I’ll get your horse saddled. Chad, get everything set up. Sir Jensen,” Jensen startled from where he’d been trying to memorize every bit of Jared’s face, “remember those eyes and build up a resistance to them quick...then tell me how you did it.”

“Impossible!” Jared said and clapped Chris’ shoulder when he walked past. Jensen stood back from the flurry of activity and continued to stare at Jared tightening buckles and adjusting plates so they sat right.

“But why would I want to deny him anything?” He murmured to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jensen had to leave and go back into the stands to make it look like everything was going as expected, but he caught Jared and gave him a long, searing kiss. “Come back to me.”

“I will, always. I don’t know how, but I will.”

Jared, Chris, Chad, and Rosey walked out under the gaze of the waiting crowd and were met with a contingent of soldiers led by one of the King’s men.

“You will remove yourself from this position of honor!”  
  
“I’ve come to compete, and I plan to do just that.” Jared replied with all the confidence he could muster.   
  
“You’ve come to be arrested!” He gestured and the soldiers surrounded Jared, spears lowered to make sure he couldn’t escape, while one came up behind him to bind his hands with a sturdy rope. Jared didn’t fight back, simply let them take him away to the jail cell.

Before they shoved him into the cell, they had removed his armor and padding and had tied his wrists to a long length of wood that rested at the back of his neck. The position would become familiar very soon, as it was close to how being locked in the stocks would feel, only then he would have to be bent almost in half as well. At least while he was in the cell he could stand up straight. He waited for the return of the guards to take him to his next prison, they had to remove the man that had already been locked there for a far less serious crime than Jared’s. He heard footsteps and then the cell door opening and turned, ready to be led away, only for Weatherly to walk in and close the door behind him. He walked in a leisurely circle around Jared, silently judging. Jared found a spot on the wall of the cell and stared at it, determined not to give Weatherly any kind of reaction. When he’d completed his circle, Weatherly spoke.

“You aim too far above yourself,” Jared wasn’t expecting the punch to his ribs and the air was forced from his lungs, “you should’ve stayed in the gutter where you belong.” A punch to his jaw, Jared hadn’t had the chance to get a breath back. “You will _never_ be anything more than a rat, scrounging for whatever it can find.” Another punch to the ribs on his other side. “Your friends cannot save you and Jensen _will_ be mine.” A punch to the center of his chest. Weatherly grabbed his chin and forced him to look at his face. “Someone like you can never beat someone like me, not in this world.” Jared’s chin was released and he slowly found his spot on the wall again. Weatherly waited for any reaction and receiving none, punched Jared twice, hard, in the chest then his stomach. The air left his lungs again and he fell to his knees. Weatherly left the cell and Jared stayed down until the guards came to get him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared didn’t know exactly how long he’d been locked in the stocks, but it was still sometime in the afternoon of the same day he’d been arrested. A crowd had gathered, as they always did when a new prisoner was locked up, to jeer and laugh, adding to the humiliation of being there in the first place. The guards posted around the stocks were meant only to keep the prisoner from escaping, not to keep the crowd at bay.

Jared kept his head down, trying to block out the calls and laughter, and saw a familiar pair of boots take up a position beside him. “Chris, I know you mean well, but I deserve this. I lied to everyone, I put you and Chad and Rosey in danger. Leave me to my punishment.”

“I’ve stayed with you this long, I’m not going to leave you now that things got tough.” Jared sighed. It wouldn’t harm anything for him to stand there and he couldn’t make him leave from his position anyway.

“Go on! Go home! Get out of here! Bloody vultures.” Jared could raise his eyes enough to just make out Chad waving his arms at the crowd, trying to get them to disperse. “Pain! Pain for all of you! Every single one!” Unfortunately the crowd didn’t take well to the threats and started to get loud. Then they started to throw rotting vegetables at all of them.

“Wait! Listen to me!” Rosey called, trying to get them to come back around. “Listen to me!” All he got was a head of lettuce in the stomach and a tomato to the face.

Jared just kept his head down. Eventually they would get tired and bored, then they would leave, then his friends would as well and he would be left with only thoughts of Jensen and how he could possibly keep his promise.

Suddenly the crowd began to get quiet and Jared saw another pair of boots enter his vision, unfamiliar ones. Prince Stephen knelt so he could look Jared in the face.

“It would seem your disguise worked far better than mine did, though yours did finally crack as well. We seem to be opposite sides of the same coin, me hiding who I was to be lower than my rank, you hiding to be higher. But I see all that I need to in order to understand who you are in how you are with your men. They are obviously fiercely loyal to you, and that is a hard thing to earn. You take chances you should not, refuse to withdraw when you should. These are all the marks of a true knight. You’ve also gained favor with one who does not make or keep friends easily, that I know from experience, and his judgement has not been wrong when he has chosen to allow someone close to him.” Jared gasped and tried to look up, but the Prince was already standing up. 

“Release him.” The guards immediately moved to start unlocking the padlocks that secured the stocks. When they had been removed, they lifted the top bar and let Jared pull his head and arms back from the holes they had been closed in. Chris was already going to meet him when Jared’s legs started to give out from weakness, so he leaned on his friend’s shoulder as Chad came over to support his other side.

Prince Stephen turned to address the assembled crowd. “This man may appear to be from humble origins, but my historians have researched and found that the name of Padalecki comes from a royal bloodline thought to have been lost long ago. You are all now witnesses to the return of a branch of the royal family. Any who would try to dispute this will be in direct contradiction to the Crown, and will be seen as traitors.”

Jared’s jaw had dropped when the Prince started speaking and it took him turning his attention back to Jared for him to remember to close it. “Let me repay the favor you once granted me. Take a knee.”

Chris, Chad, and Rosey helped Jared lower himself to one knee in front of the Prince, then backed a respectful pace away. Prince Stephen drew his sword, and for a moment Jared was sure that the edge of the blade was going to meet his neck, but he remained still. The Prince glanced at the crowd and proclaimed “By the power vested in me by my Father King Thomas, and by all the witnesses that stand here today,” he touched the flat of the blade to Jared’s right shoulder, “I dub thee…,” then to his left, “Sir Jared Padalecki.” 

The crowd erupted into cheers for the rarity they had witnessed. Prince Stephen re-sheathed his sword and held up his hand for silence. “Arise, Sir Jared.” 

The Prince held out a hand to help Jared back to his feet. Jared accepted and rose, but the Prince didn’t release his hand. Jared looked at it, then back at the Prince. “Can you ride, Sir Jared?”

“What?”

“My tournament was put on hold while this was being sorted out. Are you well enough to ride or…”

“Oh, I’m well enough.”

“Good. I shall have word sent to your opponent immediately. Go.” Jared started to turn and head back to the lists. “And Jared.” Jared turned back toward the Prince who leaned in close so only he would hear the next words. “Make it a good one.”

“Yes, my lord.” The crowd began cheering once again as Jared and his men started to leave.

“Fickle sons of bitches” Chad muttered when they got to a clear part of the street.

“Oh look, you’re learning new words! I told you I was a good influence!” Rosey quipped. The laughter that followed may have had a hysterical edge to it, but no one mentioned it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared got armored and ready faster than he ever had before. His opponent was Weatherly and Jared didn’t want to give the slightest chance for him to call something amiss or try to get him removed again. Weatherly was still standing on the ground talking to someone and his herald was making his introduction when they got to the field, so Jared took the moment to mount up and prepare himself as well as he could. He looked over into the stands, expecting to see Jensen sitting in his place beside the Prince, but the seat was empty. Steve, in his place behind the chair, could only shrug and shake his head. Weatherly mounted as his herald finished. The man had tried to steal some of Rosey’s flourish with words, but it fell flat.

“Aim true, Jared. Show him who you are, who you really are.” Chad said and patted Jared’s leg while Rosey handed the lance up to him.

Weatherly locked eyes with him from across the field, looking just as smug as the first time they’d met. Jared pulled his visor down and saw Weatherly do the same, they waited for the flag to drop, then charged. Jared took aim, careful not to let the tip of his lance waver too much with his horse’s stride. As they closed in on each other, Jared saw Weatherly pull his arm back and then shoot forward so his lance hit a split second before Jared’s did. Agony ripped through his right shoulder and caused him to drop his lance, unbroken, to the dirt. The crowd gasped as Jared came to a stop at the far end of the field and they could see the large chunk of Weatherly’s lance lodged in Jared’s shoulder.

Chris and Chad ran up to meet him and saw the damage. “I’ll get the surgeon.” Chris turned to leave.

“Chris! There’s not enough time, you have to do it.”

Chris blanched, but reached up to grab hold of the wood, braced his other hand on Jared’s arm, then yanked. He handed the chunk to Chad who looked at the end of it. There was an unusual divot right at the end that would have been the tip of the lance. Chad held it out to Rosey as he walked up. 

“He put a tip on it. Hid a piece like an arrowhead inside the blunted end of the lance so when it broke the tip would pierce the armor. An underhanded tactic and a cheat, thoroughly dishonorable.” Rosey explained after he’d examined it.

“Chris, get me back to the start or we’ll forfeit.” Jared said through pained gasps.

“That son of a bitch!” Chad said looking down at the offending piece still in his hand. Rosey only nodded his agreement before they set off back to the start after their friends.

Chris handed Jared a new lance and he got ready for the next pass. He started out well, but halfway to where they would meet, the pain overwhelmed him and he lost his grip on the lance, letting it fall to the ground again. He took the hit from Weatherly on his uninjured side, but it still knocked the wind out of him. As soon as his lance had fallen Chris and the others had started up the field to meet him, joined by Tom. A piece of Jared’s armor hung loose from the combined impact of the two blows and Tom reached up to see if it could be fixed without reforging it.

“Tom. Something’s wrong, I can’t breathe.” Jared wheezed, struggling to get the words out.

They all turned to look when Weatherly came riding back to his starting point. “I told you, _peasant_ , what chance did you ever have of beating me? The world in which that could happen does not exist.” Even Tom glared at the obnoxious man.

“Jared!” Rosey called from towards the stands, “He’s here.”

Those two words had come to mean so much to Jared that all pain was momentarily forgotten. He looked into the Prince’s viewing box and found the man of his heart staring back at him, with Jeffrey Morgan sitting by his side.

“And he brought your father.” Rosey finished when he saw that Jared had seen him.

Jared drew strength from the gaze of his beloved, and the silent strength and encouragement of his father. He would make them both proud.

“You and I have a match to finish; we’ll see what kind of world it is that we live in after the last pass.” Weatherly sneered at Jared’s challenge and trotted over to get in place.

“Get back to the start, and get this armor off, I still can’t breathe with it on.” Tom grabbed the horse’s reins and led the group back down the field.

“Two lances to none. You’ll either have to unhorse him or kill him in order to win.” Chris said from beside Jared’s leg as they walked back.

“I know which option I’m rooting for.” Chad mumbled from the other side.

Tom pulled Jared’s chest plate off and Jared took his first full breath since he got hit with the tipped lance.

“I’ll see what I can do to rig it up and keep the broken piece out of your way, but it’s not going to be pretty.” Tom said looking at the hole that had been speared through the armor.

“No, I can’t breathe with it on anyway.”

“You can’t ride without armor, Jared! You’ll be killed!” Chris yelled.

“I won’t if he doesn’t get the chance to hit me.” Jared glared down the field at his opponent, then looked over to see two sets of very worried green and brown eyes looking at him from the stands. He smiled more confidently than he really felt and nodded to both of the men, acknowledging their concern.

The person with the flag walked out to the center of the tilt, ready to start the last pass.

“Lance.”

“Jared, you can’t-”

“Lance! Chad, please.” Chad lifted the lance up to Jared reluctantly, then had to catch it immediately when Jared dropped it again.

“Damn! I can’t grip it.”

The flag was raised and the man looked to each side to signal them to get ready to ride.

“You’re going to have to tie it to my arm. I can lift it, I just can’t keep hold of it.”

“What?!”

“Tie it to my arm.” Chad looked toward the only voice of reason.

“Do it.” Chris said instead of the sane response Chad was expecting.

“Chad, hurry, the flag-”

“I missed my introduction!” Rosey’s voice rose above the chatter of the crowd. He looked to Prince Stephen, who looked over at Jared, then nodded his acceptance. The man with the start flag saw the nod, shrugged, lowered the flag, and backed away from the tilt. “But please, hear it now…”

Rosey was very good at taking up time, but he knew it couldn’t be obvious he was stalling. As he spoke he kept an eye on Jared and the process of getting the lance tied to his arm and getting him settled back into the saddle, ready to ride. Rosey gave him a few extra seconds to get his breath and prepare, then ended with “Sir Ja-red Pad-a-leckiiiiiii!”

“ _Sir_ Jared Padalecki. You’ve done it, you’ve become a knight. And you father was here to hear it and the crowd chanting your name, _your name_. Now, go and kick that miserable son of a bitch’s arse.” Chad said. Jared nodded down at his closest friend, then spared a second to look back into the stands. Jensen and his father were both cheering and chanting with the crowd, huge smiles on both of their faces. That was the sight that Jared kept with him as he waited for the flag to be dropped one last time.

Weatherly’s horse stomped and reared, the extra wait had agitated it, while Jared’s horse stood calm, but ready. Weatherly twitched and adjusted how his armor was sitting and how he was holding his lance, but Jared sat still. Tension mounted in the crowd, Jared let it roll over and around him, taking none of it in, his breathing was steady and even.

Finally the flag fell, Weatherly spurred his horse forward and it sprung into motion. Jared waited for just a few extra seconds before letting the reins loose and kicking his horse forward. Jared felt like he was completely free, flying. The lance strapped to his arm weighed nothing. He moved in perfect synchronicity with his horse, not the slightest wobble in his seat. As if in slow motion he drew ever closer to Weatherly, his vision perfectly clear, his aim steady, his mind calm and focused. Just before they met, Jared let out a roar of his name and slammed his lance into Weatherly’s chest plate, right over his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“JAAAAAAAARRRRRRREEEEEEED!” *crash* Those two sounds played in a loop in Weatherly’s head. He couldn’t quite figure out where he was, but those he heard clearly. He could see the lance coming, heard the roar and the crash, felt the impact, then it started over. He looked to the side and saw dirt. Looked to the other side and saw the same. He must be on his back because when he looked forward, he could see sky and clouds. The loop started lengthening, after the crash was a feeling of weightlessness. The next loop added feeling like he was being flipped end over end. The next, a second hard impact, his breath leaving him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jared turned as his mount continued to the end of the field to watch as Weatherly was pushed back out of his saddle and flipped heels-over-head off of his horse and onto the ground. The surge of cheers from the crowd was deafening, but he only needed one voice. He got his horse stopped and started undoing the binding keeping the stub that was left of his lance attached to his arm. As soon as it was loose, he flung himself down from the saddle and spun around to find the stairs that led up to the Prince’s viewing box. When he finally saw them it was because the person he needed was rushing down them toward him. He ran to meet Jensen halfway across the field and immediately they grabbed each other and pulled together into a deep and soulful kiss. 

It could have been hours that they kissed, the world could have ended around them and Jared would’ve been none the wiser because nothing mattered in that moment, _nothing_ , except the man in his arms.

It wasn’t hours, but it was long enough for Chad, Rosey, Tom, Chris, who had also grabbed Jared’s horse, Steve, and Jared’s father to all gather around them and start teasing them. Jared was laughing as he finally pulled his lips apart from Jensen’s and took another moment to simply look into his eyes, let all of the things he felt show there, only for him. He saw Jensen’s grin deepen when he understood and got another, much shorter, kiss for it. They finally forced themselves apart and looked over to where Weatherly was still lying on the ground looking stunned. Jared glanced at Chris and started to walk over to the prone man. Chris nodded, then asked Steve to take the reins while he, Chad, and Rosey followed Jared.

It took a second for Weatherly’s eyes to focus on the faces looming over him, but Jared could be patient for this. When he saw recognition he leaned a little farther over him. “This world is not what you thought.” He said.

“Gutter rats can become knights.” Chad added.

“Anyone can be beaten.” Chris said next.

“ _Especially_ you.” was Rosey’s addition.

“So, welcome to your new world. You’d better get used to it quick.” Jared finished.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The banquet that night lasted quite a bit longer than any Jared had been to before, and his attendance was required for the entire thing, on the orders of the Prince, after the Prince’s personal physician saw to Jared’s injuries. Being champion of the Prince’s tournament came with some very nice gifts, it would seem. Chris, Chad, and Jared’s father had also been invited to join the festivities. Chad was in his own personal Heaven and ate at least his weight in delicacies, and Chris spent most of the time talking to Jared’s father. Jared and Jensen, when they weren’t required at the Prince’s side, though neither actually minded being there, were often in one of the few quiet places to be found in the large hall with their heads leaned close together, not always talking, but simply being in each other’s space.

Afterwards they went to the rooms that the Prince had granted them as his special guests, his tournament’s champion and his retinue, he’d claimed, deserved better accommodations than tents out in the open. Jared made sure his father was settled in with Chad, and apologized in advance for that arrangement, but Chad had fallen into a food-induced heavy sleep as soon as he laid on the bed. Jared himself, of course, went to Jensen’s rooms instead of those set aside for him. He let Tom and Rosey use those so they, and Chris and Steve could have some privacy as well. When they finally had the chance to lay down, wrapped tightly together under their blankets, they spent a long while kissing and enjoying the first true privacy they’d ever had together. 

“I’m proud of you, you know.” Jensen said when they’d just been laying together in silence for a while. Jared’s head was laying on his chest, his bandaged shoulder safely away from anything that could bump it and cause more damage, and Jensen was running his hand up and down his love’s back, soothing them both with touch and presence.

“I know.” Jensen could hear the smile in Jared’s voice.

“That was a completely mad risk to take. Jousting without any armor! Who would’ve ever thought.” The arm he had wrapped around Jared tightened slightly and his hand paused in its path. “I was so scared for you, but I also knew that if anyone could pull it off without getting killed, it would be you.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it with the armor on, I couldn’t breathe. It was you. Seeing you and my father up in the stands, cheering for me, supporting me, I just wanted to make you proud. I kept the image to the two of you with me and that gave me the focus and courage I needed to pull it off.”

“Your father. He is a very interesting man. I can see where your hard headedness and bravery come from, but also your compassion. And your wild risk taking.”

“Yes. That girl was right, you know, he would fill all the children's heads with mad notions of… I don’t know, being able to change the stars, if they work hard enough for it.”

“I wanted to ask you, but it may not be my place…”

“Go ahead, Jensen, you know pretty much everything about me anyway. Ask.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that I know anywhere _close_ to everything about you, I’ll probably learn new things about you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Really? For the rest of our lives. You think so?”

“I- Well, I… Don’t you-”

“Relax. I really like the sound of that. It can be made official when we’re ready. I’m pretty sure the Prince has already made wagers on when we’ll announce it. I _know_ Rosey has.”

“I- Wow.”

“Jensen.”

“Yes?”

“There was something you were going to ask me, and it obviously wasn’t that.”

“What? Oh. I noticed- Well, you are now well known as Jared Padalecki...”

“Yes, that does seem to be fairly well known after today.” 

Jensen lightly tapped Jared’s side with his hand and Jared chuckled. “Hush. As I was saying, you are known as Jared Padalecki, but your father...he goes by Morgan. I know it’s not unheard of for children to have different names than their parents, but it isn’t the norm. I was just wondering about that.”

Jared grew solemn and he took a minute before speaking. “Jeffrey is the man who raised me, I don’t remember anyone other than him, so he is my father in that sense, but I am not of his bloodline. Like I said, I don’t remember because I was too young, just barely weaned from mother’s milk when he found me.”

“Found you?” Jared sighed and turned so he could lay side by side with Jensen, their bodies still touching from shoulder to ankle, but settled more comfortably for a long story.

“Yes. He’s a cobbler, or was. He traveled around in his younger days, usually trying to stay close to the army or visiting smaller holdings that wouldn’t have a cobbler of their own. At one of the smaller holdings he couldn’t find anywhere to lodge within the walls. They’d had a spy from one of their rivals sneak in as a worker and try to kill the lord, so they were suspicious of any newcomer. So, Jeffrey had to find lodging farther out towards the woods. The country folk were still suspicious, but no more than any others he’d met were of strangers. There was a woman who allowed him to sleep in the loft of her barn. He couldn’t pay her much, but she needed anything she could get.” Jared stopped to take a breath and prepare himself for the next part. Jensen reached the short distance between them and entwined their fingers, silently lending support. Jared looked at their linked hands and smiled softly, then leaned over and gave Jensen a quick kiss on the check.

With a short sigh he began speaking again. “One night when he returned to the loft, well after dark, from working inside the holding, he heard a child crying. He looked around and found the child, me, sitting against the back wall outside of the barn, half frozen and starved. The woman didn’t have any young children, hers were grown and had families of their own or had joined the King’s army to go fight in the wars, so he knew I hadn’t wandered down from the house and gotten lost. Besides I looked like I had missed more than one meal and was covered in mud and brambles. It was too late for him to disturb the woman, so he took me back to the loft with him, tucked me into his bedroll on top of a pile of hay and shared what little he had that I could eat. He made sure I stayed warm through the night and in the morning asked the woman if she knew where I could’ve come from. She said there were no houses close enough to hers that I could have wandered from them to her and no one in the houses outside of the holding had young children anymore. He took me to the holding with him that day and asked anyone he came across if I looked familiar to them. All of them said no.” Jared reached up with his free hand to rub at the back of his neck and Jensen lightly squeezed the hand he was still holding, letting Jared know he would always have someone from then on.

“The priest of the holding said that my eyes looked similar to a description he’d read in a very old collection in the church’s archives about the members of the royal family. He found the book and then read the description to Jeffrey, who agreed that it was very similar, except it described a line of royals that had died out due to war and disease many, many years before: the Padalecki line. He decided he couldn’t keep calling me “child”, but he wanted me to have my own identity, something that would be just mine since, as an orphan, I had nothing at all. He gave me the name Jared and a last name that I could be proud of, but that most people wouldn’t know: Padalecki. He took me with him to all of the holdings around that one and continued to ask everyone if I looked familiar to them. When it came time for him to return here before winter set in, still no one had claimed me, so he did.” When it was obvious that Jared was finished, Jensen spoke.

“That is an amazing story. Did Jeffrey continue to ask around after that? When he went back out the next year? Or around here where there might have been more records?”

“He did ask a little when we went back out. He took me with him every time, until he stopped being able to travel so far. No one ever had any stories of a child wandering off from camp and never returning or seeing parents frantically looking around. No one told of children stolen for ransom that wasn’t paid, or even to be sold into slavery on some distant land. After a while he stopped asking, because it didn’t matter, I was his son and he was my father.”

“And now Prince Stephen brings out the same story of the lost Padalecki line… Do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think. He said his personal historians researched it, but as a member of the royal family he should know about the history, so maybe knowing the name I used, he just did the same thing Jeffrey did and took a hint of truth and made it work.”

“The Prince had told me he found a way to get you released from the stocks and to allow you to joust again, but he didn’t tell me what it was, only that I needed to go and get your father and return as quickly as possible.”

“I hadn’t realized you and the Prince were that close until I saw you in the stands and then he told me that your judgment of people’s character was nearly infallible, at least when it came to allowing people close to you.”

“Yes, we’ve, ah, gotten each other out of a few scrapes on the battlefield. He has a tendency to outrun his guard and I am one of the few he’s come to trust at his back in battle. The assassin in your story is a more common occurrence than you might think.”

“You are certainly one I would trust at my back, though you may have to teach me about fighting in real battles before you can say the same about me. Somehow I think the sword event in a tournament isn’t quite the same.”

“No, it is almost nothing the same, but you have courage, you’re smart, and you’re willing to take a risk, so I have no qualms with saying I would trust you at my back as well. And I would be happy to teach you battlefield fighting, if you want to learn. You are a noble now, and might very well be called on by your King or your Prince, since he knows your courage and loyalty as well as I do.”

“Do you really think…” Jared slid down to lay with his head on Jensen’s chest again, he liked to hear the rumbling voice reverberating through his chest when he talked and his heartbeat when he was silent.

“The Prince commanded it, so it is so and there will be no questions. As for the truth, unless he chooses to tell either one of us, we will most likely never know.”

“But I get to stay with you?”

“Yes, you get to stay with me for as long as you wish. If the Prince has a wager on our announcement, he may command _that_ as well. He does not like to lose.”

“We’ll see if we don’t get to it first.” Jared smiled and closed his eyes. Jensen wrapped his arm back around him to resume the path he’d been making with his hand on Jared’s back. They were both lulled to sleep by the sound of their combined breathing and the comfort that came from having the other close.


End file.
